Lyrics:
Harry made a bareback rider proud and free upon a horse
And a fine coal miner for the NCB that was
A fallen angel and Jesus on the cross
A skating
There are no lyrics to this track. It is intentionally blank, with each of the 71 seconds representing one of the years that the artist's father,
they won't tell me what not to say
And though me and my party days have all pretty much parted ways
You'd swear to God I've forgot I'm the guy that
of the enchantment Navajo
I have seen your redrock
Canyons out of gallop
I have walked upon your Arizona hills
At crownpoint I watched an artists painting
All
introduced the oceans to the earth
Well whoever made the snowflakes
Made shadows where doubts lurk
I suspect an artist is at work
I know when an artist
You are the one
The prophets spoke of you
You will become
The artist's style, the artist's soon
Part of something whole – the artist's style,
premiere online
An additional song and video
Will launch each week leading up
To the album's release
50 Cent commented:
I have had great success to date
There I was, in this room, with all these amazing artists
and all I could think is, I don't have enough followers on Spotify or YouTube to even
Tune me in to the wild side of life
I'm an innocent young child sharp as a knife
Take me to the garretts where the artists have died
Show me
(辛い記憶も)
一気に (時代の roar)
即 飲み干す (自分と共存)
一気に (okay now I'm ready fo' sho')
さあ 飲め飲め飲め飲め このグラス ay
さあ 酔え酔え酔え 今 to your artist
ワンショット (one shot) ツーショット
to laugh
Effortlessly I have loved thee
If fantasy could surely make a friend
The palette of your dreams
Would draw them mad
Beyond the universe, you know no
Tune me in to the wild side of life
I'm an innocent young child sharp as a knife
Take me to the garretts where the artists have died
Show me
medication
We'll have more on this story as it develops"
"Shady Records recording artist Obie Trice
Has apparently survived a gunshot to the head
In what
sometimes our great artists have been
The most critical of our society
It is because their sensitivity
And their concern for justice
Which must motivate any
know what I'm sayin'?
'Til we over, 'til it's dead, 'til we in the dirt
When I'm fifty years old, I wanna have fifty-year-old fans
Sixty-year old fans
of you
You get to love, you have to talk to somebody about a new life
I don't love my wife anymore, I don't love my kids anymore
Missin' out on life,
thirty
But I'm Ruger, squirty
Language and this loofah dirty
I don't see another artist on a nigga level
When I get to go to get it started, I'ma hit
so-called "bigger three", huh
But every verse I lay, fans love to say, "Man, niggas is sleep"
But two hundred million records up though, it isn't a dream
All alone, or in two's
The ones who really love you
Walk up and down outside the wall
Some hand in hand
And some gathered together in bands
an artist is a fragile life
And it's something I have always believed
The memory cuts like a knife
All the good that I did was for nothing (ah)
All
easily
Have you ever been to a birthday party for children
And one of the children won't stop screaming
'Cause he's just a little attention attractor
Oh, oh my darling
Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah
The artist pays the price
So you won't have to pay
If only we would listen
To what they have to say
Oh, oh my darling
Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah
The artist pays the price
So you won't have to pay
If only we would listen
To what they have to say
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