Lyrics:
crumble like crackers
Rush the stage, allow the crowd to witness your massacre
You ain't bone, you're marrow, the lead travels from barrels
Bloody
didn't hesitate to send them pies
Commissary prices soaring through the roof
It took me thirty days to make
Twenty dollars with a broom
Twenty one cents
now
Young prince in the city I brought the drinks with me
Crossed over to ten bands and made it fifty
Grand entrance with some biddies
I got two with me
looks like a model
Waddle waddle to the very next day
Make her feel like she was in fifty shades of grey
I've got that swag money but she doesn't wanna
lockers they won’t open again. Seventeen Valentine’s Day dates broken and cards unopened. Seventeen bodies to identify, dozens of photo albums to page
niggaz are hard plus we all crazy
Wishing I can be a peaceful man and, hoping that the Lord save me
Fuck a nigga named 50 Cent, you nothing but change
no drive-by's
We walked over
COB bandana tied to the end of the AR
Iller than they are, rhymes so sick
Give 'em the day off
This is the chaos, Nicolas
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
But I'm down by law and I know my way around
Too much, too many people, too much (aha-ha)
Too much, too many people, too much, Raaah!
A castle
stripped-down Model A
At Harold's Super Service, we do grease jobs
We fix fifty, sixty flats every day
And just about the time we get real busy
Here comes this
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
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
I get Texas Chainsaw Massacre
You will get Freddy Krueger part 6 and
Final Destination part 3
Trust me I'll push your wig back
This ain't a fair clash
California where us youngstas slang that cocaine
and we be hoppin it up and choppin it up and rockin it up
to tens twenties fifties and hundreds
surrounded by mains and remains.
Fuck spending my days up in chains in a cage.
Hard to move on when life been Pompeii.
Still cash up, but lately it’s been
he dead, I'd be lyin'
My newborn was born on Valentine's Day
That's the best gift a nigga coulda got, what more could I say?
Nicki had a baby,
100 Days went by
You learned so much in this time
Let's count all the days
You and I
First by 1s and then by 5s
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11,
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
pack a Llama
Separate the lions from llamas and alpacas
If I pow pow at ya ali bumaye
Zoom by clappin' ya
Wound guys, the room guys, Mumbai massacre
history of hip-hop
From way way back
(His martha gupa's?) Hip-Hop Father
Charlie Ahern Wild Style
And 50 Cent's Fifty and More
I used to read this to my
the 50 cent cocoa
Ice, ice, me baby
Cause the Black Sheep Dres be up on the scene
Let the top down, turn up the sound
Got my hands in the air
Cause my
Four-hundred and twenty-three
By a hundred and twelve by fifty-one
There must be a
Better place to
Be somebody
Be somebody else
Inside the mind
back and pull strings
Yeah yeah
Used to have that fuckin' title by name
Yeah yeah now that's nothin' but some
Fire to my flame, Yeah yeah
You ain't
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