Lyrics:
the days
Young strays, posted at the L.Q. on Friday's
Waitin for Dice to give the go ahead
Hawkin 50 cent, puttin heads to bed
for a herringbone hear
And prolly with the same ones
I come in this game with, Im Mobbin' with
All my niggas thorough from DC, to Cali shit
V-A to P-A, to G-A to D-E, to D-A
Want
like weight
Ask about me
Worldwide baby
Worldwide baby (A yeah yeah)
Ice Cube makin' more money in the rap game
Than some of you can (A yeah
makin' more money in the rap game
Than some of you can (A yeah yeah) with a bird in your hand
Puttin' it down
We wanted in fifty states for this weight
fifty sticks to NY
Lil bro he just wanna smoke some shit he dont get high
Switches on the back of all the glicks it can't get by
This shit on my
think bitch we enemy's
Check on my chain I need 10 a piece
Next in the game where I'm finna be
No X by my name do not censor me
I got the chopper like
mother fucking Tupac's nigga
DMX ain't the new Tupac, Ja Rule ain't the new Tupac
And I'll be damned if 50 Cent is the new Tupac
Ain't no new Tupac's
still ended up
By havin' no names
Since "Rebel Without a Pause
" the beats were never the same
And by 1998, we still had game, we rocked on
(Rockin' on,
touch me
Me. That cost 50 cents
Whatever I still got plenty left
I'm in the zone. Danger. Twilight. Name it
Heart rate rise while climb in the rankings
eight ball
And a fifty cent razor
A nigga still tryna catch
Up twenty bricks later, uh (Ha ha ha)
I just want my worth, is that too much?
Load my pistol
sheep in that dirt nap
And they were unaware that I slayed 'em
Til I sprayed 'em with my worst raps
My first raps went spam Sammy with a grab bag
they really were hot
Rap game, heavy hitters
It's a shame they no longer wit us
Niggas want to be L, ladies want to see L
If I go to jail, you'll wear
Okay, New York, New York
Skepta, Jme (Boy Better Know)
This is grime scene
Hold tight my mum still, big up mum
Yeah, listen
I want a 100% not fifty
fifty with the wrong pipes
Peeling off like snake skin, watch the cobra bite
Overnight success story, go and check for me
You rap poorly, that's why
the rap game
It's time to have it all; he said he figured he same
We realized this a planet of cream to obtain
When the predominant rap, conglomerate
Dane, I mean, Hakeem
And we was buildin' on how we could organize the team
For this capital gain bein' that we in the rap game
It's time to have it all;
the gas, propane (gas)
Hit the nigga with a chopper, nigga bang bang (grrah, grrah)
I was getting money, way before the rap game (way back)
As a young
motherfuckers mind
I pop the 9, you pop the 9
And all y'all motherfuckers dyin'
We gon drive by
We walk up and do these Niggas out the game
We sell 2 shot,
help, I'ma do this shit by myself)
If rap was a video game, you'd play on G-Eazy
Me, I'm G, expert mode, please believe me (ha)
Steezy, put this shit
Getting by in the end and ended up deep in debt
Working our asses off for degrees that won't reap a cent
Yeah that'll leave a dent, when you're two faced
to competition
Turn fifty cents to fifty milly like I'm curtis james
I got that Wim-hof shock ice is in my veins
Bali to fiji I'm with a sweetie I do this on my
extension
Hit the club on a Tuesday, and I threw a nigga rent
I shoot a nigga all in this shit like 50 cents
I be blowin' through all this fuckin' money like
Call me anytime you want
I'm by my phone
You not around when I'm at home
I'm needy for you
I'm not a pop star
I'm not a rap star
Can I get encore
Bitch
repertoire fifty-two block
Avoidin? hisself from gettin? shot
Skill a kill any deliver
Matinee track prostitution whole money go get her
Collaborate real rap
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