Lyrics:
in New York City fifty cents elsewhere
It makes no goddamn sense at all
America's oldest continuously published daily piece of bullshit
Flavor Flav
Hurry, hurry, step right up
See the sideshow in town for only fifty cents
Step right up, hurry, hurry before the show begins, my friends
Stand
Yeah, this the Shady Records mixtape (yeah)
Invasion, mixed by the Evil Genius (50 Cent, Lloyd Banks, Tony Yayo)
G-Unit
This rap shit plays
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
to the pumps
Had you floating in the ocean
Now you trashed by the dumps
Nifty fifty gang, I was raised in the slumps
Pockets so fat like it's raised by
Money, cash, coins and bills
Now listen closely and
Bring your math skills
You can tell by their size
And by their decoration
Just how much they're
teach the kids, you rather have a bullet or a word to your wig
Murder rates increases, bullet holes the size of fifty cent pieces
Don't worry about
-twelve two-bit room
I'm a man of means, by no means
King of the road
[Chorus:]
Trailers for sale or rent
Rooms to let, fifty cents
No cars, no pool, no
Trailers for sale or rent
Rooms to let...fifty cents.
No phone, no pool, no pets
I ain't got no cigarettes
Ah, but..two hours of pushin' broom
Buys
cracker a day (what? Oh shit)
Girl, well, I heard the bitch was married to Tim
And started fucking with Trina
Well, I heard the bitch got hit by three
cracker a day (what? Oh shit)
Girl, well, I heard the bitch was married to Tim
And started fucking with Trina
Well, I heard the bitch got hit by three
Fifty racks, hundred bags all cherry
Give me that, dummy gas on period
Materials ain't defining fuck amiri
I need a zillion, that goal kinda scary
He
a lit man
Dress in all black apparel bitch I'm a hitman
50 hitters posted outside
Ready to hit man
Popping pills still nodding out
This shit get to crazy
todavía son erráticos
Wisin y yandel!
The warriors jajaja
T-pain
Victor "el nasi", "nesty"
W yandel
En conexión con 50 cent
Y todavía se atreven decir que
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
99 cents
Bag it, poppin' it, washin' it, 'bout to go and get some compliments
Passing up on those moccasins someone else has been walking in
Bummy
by the camp fire
I been in the sun check the tan line
Sticking niggas up got their hands high
Twisting up their tongue got their hands tied
Threatening
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
the sky tryin' to blast sun
Zero to sixty in a second, pull a fast one
Fifty cent flashin' they hate us with a passion
Mashin', still fresh in three-day
and many men or 50 Cent
Shit, I am 50 Cent, haha
50 Cent:
I don't know what u heard about me
But a bitch can't get a dollar out of me
No Cadillac, no perms u can't see
That I'm a motherfucking
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
Its the way i live my life
Always give 100 take back 50
Give one 100 and i take back 50
Dont have anytime to be so thrifty
Dont need a shrine just
the master plan
She had left her friends and introduced herself as Jass she said
This whole event is so intense, of course it's 50 Cent
She grabbed my hands
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