Lyrics:
gotta die, I'd rather homicide
I ain't have fifty cent when my grandmama died
Now I'm goin' back to Cali with my Jacob on, see how time fly?
Hate it
11th that sh** is tragic
Wait, I should save this sh** for the album
F*** it, I won't get in the middle of it like Malcolm
Known to be a monster like Ben
album
Puff Daddy, enough already
Now its P. Diddy still sound shitty
How can your group be called Da Band
No body plays an insterment man
I dont
I gotta die, I'd rather homicide
I ain't have 50 Cent when my grandmama died
Now I'm goin' back to Cali with my Jacob on
See how time fly?
Hate
And I take great pleasure in introducing, 50 Cent
It's bottle after bottle
The money ain't a thing when you party with me
It's what we into, it's
And I take great pleasure in introducing, 50 Cent
It's bottle after bottle
The money ain't a thing when you party with me
It's what we into, it's
By Nirvana
Memory-y-uh
The first CD I ever stole
From my dad's CD collection
Was an album titled Nevermind
It blew my mind to pieces
Both of us came
on me
In the club like 50cent
With the 48 laws of power
I outsmart them cos i'm the man
Now back to the matter at hand
I feel alive cos i've seen
And I take great pleasure in introducing, 50 Cent
It's bottle after bottle
The money ain't a thing when you party with me
It's what we into, it's
years away from when they say
The world's expected to end
And I ain't even begin
That's more ironic than a bum asking
For 50 Cent from "Many Men", one
*** wit' I
I make a million by June
I'm sayin' f*** July
And I beg you to try me while I'm holdin' da Tommy
I'm a have ya body all over da lobby
I
(yeah)
Yeah, don't make me hit you with that bow
Help, I've fallen, I can't get up
I live in dark, get rich or die tryin'
Like 50 Cent, minute man
Ay bruh, I'ma tell you on some real shit homie
You know what I'm sayin', you can't let this shit get to you dog
Know what I'm sayin', it ain't no
If these niggas be outside trust they gettin' hit
Keep it 100 with u pop your ass for 50 cent
I'm tryna shake up on da game remember 50 cent
All
motherfucker who think this is
On the celly bumpin' Makaveli
I hold no grudge
You diss me, I diss you, love is love
I heard his body was too hot to get near it
'm in Hollywood cause I remember when I had 50 Cent, up In Da Club
All my life I knew I was major, I don't need no major
I don't even write rhymes, I
mama, your uncle, your cousin?
I’m showing love cuz it’s really just nothing
Was up in the club, bottle of bub’
I’m fifty cent, man I’m all the above
I
hot
For me me me baby by by by ooh
Girl your not the same, your in love with t-pain
And I cant play this game anymore I wanna keep on jumping around
to the center
To get the vending machines
Where he then he would be seen
Gettin' some mini m&m's and some mints
When he went and he spent 50 cent
That he sent
you picking up a vanguard
I don’t play with no ouija boards Means I don’t play with no ghostwriters
Keep ya 50 cents girl you might have to pay
body's stiff
By the same niggas you used to party with
Hands up shorty when you party with me, we goin' way past quarter to three (I said Hands Up!)
I spent in beats
Then about another six fifty just to get the shit mixed at least
Album cover's two hundred, plus the production of physicals
Music
don't follow the rules
Why should I when Reebok giving niggas they own shoes
And I'm dealing with the same problems 50 Cent got
Yayo in jail and they
Things picking up fast
Confessions just posted can't wait for my incoming 50-cent check
Lately inspiration been nonstop
I'm a kid in a candy shop
Don't
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