Lyrics:
it, you know what I'm sayin'?
It's that gangsta shit
That's that gangsta shit (50 Cent, Trackmasters)
That gangsta shit
That's that gangsta shit
It's the number one crew in the area!
The Big L be lightin' niggas like incense
Gettin' men lynched too intense
I'm killin' infants for ten cents
remy nah
Just for the lookout I toss a 50, if that thing up on my hip
Then you gone know it, you gone hear that mafucka'
Won't be from me tryna show it,
pick
It's like choosing which puddle of vomit to lick
And when I want something even more fruity and fake
I look up 'N' for N'Sync or 'T' for
'bout that!
Want to tell that D's yeah, I doubt that!
I put the barrel in tha 5th in ya mouth
Jack! 50 Cent!
I said I'm 'bout it, 'bout
It! - I'm
some biddies
Hitting lines of the 50
Lines of the 50
Hitting lines of the 50
Lines of the 50
Strolling through Miami
In a tinted Cadi
Drop town
Like she
plated
Niggas owe me I'm aggravated when you making a payment
I need every cent don't stay wit mama paying full rent
Saying shit like it got spent can get
[50 Cent]
You can hum all you want to
Cum all you want to
But I ain't gon' want you
If nobody wants you
You like the smiles n the dimples on my face
of followers the same
Fifthteen cent
Thinking colossal shit negative
Fifthteen cent
But get rich or die trying
Thats word to fifty cent
See my girl said it's
Man everywhere I go, I mean like everywhere I be
I hear niggaz runnin they mouth, you should hear how they talk 'bout me
[Verse 4]
Man 50 fucked
open-air, Tokyo to Delaware
Put your phones in the air if you wanna be rocked
You know I want way more than I already got
Give me a song with Eminem and 50
on strike, YEAH!
[Chorus]
[50 Cent]
She got what I want, want (uh-huh)
She got what I need, need (that's right)
She rollin my blunt, blunt (yeah)
Yeah I just need like 50 plans
Spent my last like 50 cents
I window shopped like 50 cent
That bitch she right
Ray Bandz on my face I got
got 50 Cent I got G-Uni we up in this bitch
With Obie Trice
So watch what you say 'fore you call our names you say one more thing
It won't be nice
Here
The Hustle don't stop, Hustle don't quit
Got a "Hustlers Ambition", like, 50 Cent
Want the, "Finer Things", in this, life I live
So I'll, grind til I
what you say about me
Broke nigga two cents don't matter
Give a fuck what you say about me
Broke bitch two cents don't matter
It doesn't matter, it
100s on 50s on 50s on 100s
I pullin’ up, know you bitches don’t want it
Up in this club like we own it
See you in there actin’ phony
Tell your bitch
pick
It's like choosing which puddle of vomit to lick
And when I want something even more fruity and fake
I look up 'N' for N' Sync or 'T' for
Hot 97 blazing hip hop and R&B you now
Tuned into G-Unit radio 50 Cent, Lloyd Banks
Tony Yayo
It's like everywhere I look
And everywhere I go
I'm
I'm a die trying to get rich like 50 cent
Could have bought a foreign, but instead I bought a brick
When I was on my dick, them bitches wouldn't give
don't want anything to stop no shawty you just too 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
50 Cent I'm makin hits now
Don't try an act like you ain't heard I'm the shit now
Some bitches changed, cause they know I'm fittin to blow
You should
[50 Cent]
Disrespectful
Anything, I let you breathe
Now you're dead
[Chorus: 50 Cent]
There's no room without casualties
End up in a wake
They chase chips
Champagne you take sips they guzzle the shit
Only a selected few can rock to this
Kaygee, 50 Cent, Next, ya stoppin' this?
Loving me
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