Lyrics:
station in Jamaica
Queens zach Fink Ny1 50 cent:
It's the big 10, it's been 10 years since 50
Cent is the future
I'm tired as a motherfucker
What you want
trusted by children
I'm ready and willing to fight all these villains
No chaos or killings, my style is so brilliant
Gotta go hard (gotta go hard)
I
The day you left, I wonder where you went
And I am the man, like 50 cent
I love her freshest hair, like a peppermint
M.I.A
M.I.A
M.I.A
Baby, why don't you
my circle
The ones that acting phony
Hard as fuck, put it on cement
Card of luck, peachy be my scent
Pimp on God, call me 50 Cent
Cadillac, tell me how
Had so many nights when I was, so low
During them times I felt, no hope
I'm tryna blow up just like 50 cent
Get rich or ima die tryna do this s**
ya frame
I'm like 50 cent's thoughts on some murder game
Peep the poetry and metaphors
C4 to heavens doors like I'm coming here for sure
Gimme gimme
trip talking slick (talking slick)
Whole team stay fresh to death (fresh)
Hoes still won't get a cent (not a cent)
I've been working overtime (overtime)
Lotta niggas dead weight gotta keep em off me
And I know I got alotta bitches salty
Baby when you link up with me just don't record me
Gotta keep
gotta go and get a bag
Momma need it real bad
I gotta go and get a bag (bag, bag)
Shit I gotta go and get a bag
Twenties, fifties, hundreds
Gotta go
Like 50 cent you be fucking on many men
After my baby momma I ain't found love again
Post my new chick on my ig rubb it in
Cause I know that my ex bitch
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
It's 50 Cent starring as Game
It's autobiographical
I hope you enjoy yourself
50 callin me crazy, I might be just maybe
I'm gangsta, I'm crippin', Damu,
the Range, I'm into nice thangs
I slang weed, cocaine and heroine
50 Cent, that's my name, nigga I bring the pain
You thought shit stay the same, nigga shit
Trailer 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
chin hair
That's why I say right by the mic and call you out, Cause you can't win there
Cause you can't win there
Man, I would not be here today if it
the most
Just for 50 cents they'll make you turn into a ghost
Gotta move right with a pistol
Put the shit inside my coat
I ain't fucking with no n**** gotta
the most
Just for 50 cents they'll make you turn into a ghost
Gotta move right with a pistol
Put the shit inside my coat
I ain't fucking with no n**** gotta
the most
Just for 50 cents they'll make you turn into a ghost
Gotta move right with a pistol
Put the shit inside my coat
I ain't fucking with no n**** gotta
I gotta make it to Heaven, for goin' through Hell
Gotta make it to Heaven, gotta make it to Heaven
I gotta make it to Heaven, for goin' through
I gotta make it to Heaven, for goin' through Hell
Gotta make it to Heaven, gotta make it to Heaven
I gotta make it to Heaven, for goin' through
gotta come home again
I need like fifty a show, that's how it go
I pick up half at the end
Young nigga settin' a trend, copped me a Beamer
Truly, I
got some more in store
When I get through throwin' it on
You gotta' come back for more
Boys will come along a dime by the dozen
That ain't nothing
You do not make any sense
You do not make any sense
You are not paying the rent
I'm making dollars you don't make any cents
You do not make any
by the Swiss
Worn by the rich, with that shit you can sniff
Got not time to play 'round, it's way too much in my mix
I'm talking dollars and cents
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