Lyrics:
pull a fast one
Fifty cent flashin they hate us wit a passion
Mashin, still fresh in three-day old fashion
Your plaid, I'm stripes, together we be
them up cent by cent
I started with a quarter
It was worth twenty-five cents
Each dime was worth ten
So I added both of them
Got thirty-five, forty-five
above, killed you
You and you it's a dub bitches be weird Claimin' they a ho, goddamn, you were dumb
Ran through, I can't even cum heartless
See you
God (yeah)
Oh God (boy)
Yeah, G.O.O.D. (MMG, nigga)
Chain all V.S. I ain't with the B.S
Catch me in your city riding hard through the B.X
mouth
You should hear how they talk about me
Man 50 f***ed up, I mean real f***ed up
He left us in the hood, we f***ed up
I can't believe this n****
Lionel Richie
Low Income, I stay so hungry that if 50 Cent came to rob me
He'd be part of my charity
(I want to thank my hood)
To my people cuttin'
bite your ass like a pick
Run the hood where you get killed, where you sit
Get your motherfuckin' wig split
Ridin' through the low key, through the I.E.
What up, Rippah?
I come from posted on the block with them hot boys
Seven of us ridin' on a bike, totin' them fire rods
I smoke a show, man, how
socks
Banksy bitches, Basquiat
I ran through that buck fifty Live Nation fronted me
They workin' on another deal, they talkin' two hundred fifty
I'm
usually not good
Cause I freeze with my hands on a hot hood.
And getting' jacked by the you-know-who.
When in a black and white the capacity is two.
motherfuckers that killed Biggie
Notoriouses, bring that Benz in
I'm about a dollar, nigga fuck 50 Cent
I heard Tony Yayo can't pay the rent
I heard Lloyd
wanna fuck
(Call me) Why you naggin me?
(Call me) Girl you houndin me
(Call me) Why you harassin me?
I don't want alone time, I just wanna fuck
50 Cent
Yea
Lloyd Banks, Tony Yayo
Yea
Niggas salute me
Uh huh
We takin over this shit
(50 Cent)
Yo
G Unit
G Unit soldiers
(gun cocks)
socks
Banksy bitches, Basquiat
I ran through that buck fifty Live Nation fronted me
They workin' on another deal, they talkin' two hundred fifty
I'm
fifty cents
The ghetto got me crazy, I smell daisies
But I can't die tonight my old lady's pregnant with a baby
Tupac said there's a heaven foe a G
But I
two weeks been busy, I'm movin' in
I told my mom look out her window to another Benz
She took nine shots of Patron, 50 Cent
I bent the corner
Hips and thighs,oh my!, stay focused
(Jones!) He, she blowticious,
Lamborghini, it's audicious
From Harlem to Hollywood I'm still hood,
500 Horses
the night before New Year's, and all through the fuckin' projects
Not a handgun was silent, not even a Tec
Outside as I'm stuck, by enemies who put fear
ho, ridin' through slow
Blaze through third and first and do what ya do
I done, done I done, done
Pull up and wrap the shotgun
They know me Gotti,
ho, ridin' through slow
Blaze through third and first and do what ya do
I done, done I done, done
Pull up and wrap the shotgun
They know me Gotti,
Janet Jackson
I'm off three double stacks and I'm lookin for that action
Gucci Mane you stupid man I love the way you flowin
Ridin in my drop but I don't
ones comin? every day
And I was changin? plugs on Moses? magic carpet
When, up through the clouds, there came this Model A
He says, ?Gimme 50 cents
Arabs
Hoppin' off the fuckin' plane with 50
Thousand and some Air Max
My bitch just picked me up, she lookin' good
She got her hair back
Ridin' through
that fair
Can't show no fake love
Take a trip to Philly
Ridin' through that city
And my mind on a million
Can't show no fake love
Take a trip
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