Lyrics:
Mama she used to say, don't live by your knife
Mama she used to say, gotta get out the ghetto
Mama she used to say, morning comes and goes
Mama
Bullet proof like I'm fifty cent
Keep a hundred rounds aiming at your head
You better not play with me nigga
Write a song, drop a hit, go do a show like
When it comes to gettin' money bitch we can't stop
Stackin' up the one's time to flip another drop
20's with the 50's with the 100's on the top
We
it's only one stop
We live fast die from gun shots
And in this lifestyle we sling dope
Bust Glocks why you think we say fuck cops
Cause when they lock us
head
I feel like 50 cent I'm wanted dead by many men
The gun cocked and one shot just missed my head
The next shot I then hopped that one hit the bed
Unlike all the meme rappers all I spit is the truth
You don't wanna see me when I come out da booth (epic gun sound effect)
I once scammed a scammer
the middle of the night
For detergent and diapers-- Oh no!
You're 80 cents short.
Come on lend me 80 cents. It's only 80 cents, Come on!
Sorry, Joe.
Joe
ones you don't know about
Buns by the tons, mad guns and we going out
What!!
[Swizz beatz]
It ain't over, it ain't over, ain't over
[Sonja
Cause I live to die
Wit my mind on my money
And my guns in the sky
And my guns in the sky
Yeah,
Why would you leave somethin' you love here
It's real, yo but still, yo, it's love here
And it's felt by anybody that come here
Out of towners take the train, plane and bus here
Must be
fives
Ready? Go
5, 10, 15, 20
25, 30, 35, 40
45, 50, 55, 60
65, 70, 75, 80
85, 90, 95
100, ready or not, here I come
Apple, peaches, pumpkin
your own alphabet with all them G's
Open up a hundred doors with all them keys
Yeah we live for them coupes but we dyin' by the gun
Missed his court
tried to shake it, man, I can't believe this shit is real
Heart pumping on the 101
This shit right here ain't no fun
Live and die by the gun
Get you
Same way you make cyanide, same way you make amaretto.
Hip-hop's in the street, now were all busting
50 Cent's on MTV, now it's cool to carry metal
Now it's 2006 I need a new bottom miss
It's aight they can talk I'm amused by the pricks
I'm the news out the bricks nigga who's hot as this
I bet
Every venue sold out, fans lined up waitin'
50 really did that shit with no help from Live Nation (thanks 50)
I was playin' Uno on private jets, eatin'
50 Cent ain't gonna kill ya nigga, don't get doubted
Got your gun, well don't leave home without it
The Memphis niggas is rowdy rowdy
Them
(Ay)
Now we got bricks in the couch (Bricks)
50k in the pouch (50k) J's in the lot in and out (J's)
My diamond hit my nigga, ouch (Uh)
I put this
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
got bricks of fent
556's rip shit can't out live this bitch you ain't 50 cent
Put a M on that boy don't play for Michigan
I been rolling for two months
a glacier
Don’t make me pop trunk on you motherfucking haters
Come take a chance, like Chance The Rapper
And Imma whip yo fucking head like a 50 cent sample
the found you twitching/
Start to tripping, once they found out that ya fucking heart was missing;
Nickels into dimes, five times, like im 50 cent/
Hell bent,
always prepared
Got sons you don't know about, ones you don't know about
Buns by the tons, mad guns and we going out
What!!
[swizz beatz]
It ain't over,
don't know what's, faggot-ass motherfuckers
Get money to all my real niggas, man
Obie Trice, D-12, G Unit, 50 Cent, Hailie Jade
Daddy, is Ja Rule
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