Lyrics:
drop again, three Sundays in June
My sons'll love it
Poison my food for thought
Hope my critics become disgusted
These scriptures are one-of-ones
Never
Get in your place
You're rook in the war zone
Same old shit, man
They kicking they all clones
Fuck a few poison darts
Give them the harpoon, yeah
So you
stricnine poison and he said,
"Oh, c'mere little deer.
I have some food for you. Look at Julie."
And the mommy deer said,
"Oh, I better eat it first
scratched
In fact, now that I think, back, I was gettin macked
by a tender, oh yeah now I remember
Vanessa from Maryland, aggressive and tanned
It was
They call me Road Runner, I leave that ass in the dust (aight)
I drink the heat from beneath the Earth's core (yeah)
Six million and fifty degrees,
dzisiaj robię
Ona twerk pali haze pali jazz w GTR
Lakier red laczki black
Beat to crack Budda flex
Ona wet my na Shell
50 Cent w GTR
Oksy black tak jak Jack
thirteen cents
A bussel to ship it to Vancouver, fifty-hundred and sixty dollars
Within four years they'll likely be paying twice as much
And within
think I'm gonna FALL...
I have shot the president
I'm queen of Brittain for a cent
for fifty bucks I'll do a trick
your wallet might not be as thick
Uh-ha
Mummy raised a good yute, but I'm bad like my surname Jackson
Fifty cent coins in this hand gun (baow)
You ever heard the MAC ring? Ain't
young buck'll get that dough
Play Eminem and 50 Cent like they was tic-tac-toe (who?)
Respect they game but shoot one and check they frame
Make sure
like Stallone, got game like 50 Cent posse
Up first to work, on his coffee grind
In no time promoted to the king's right hand
But no hype man, had
hovno
Hmm a bolo to vážne hovno
Po ceste zdutý domov som počúval svoj detský rap
V 13tich som chcel mať hlas ako 50 Cent
V štvrtej bráne býval tučný
oh cent, back down, had to eat the top ramen by the pack owww
Hit-boy said price snap now
Fuck that you're hogging the mic, lemme rap now
Make
verkanntes Genie
Jedes Kind hat jetzt ein Smartphone
Und aus den Boxen dröhnt 50Cent
Ohne all die Alten Platten wär ich nicht mehr Hip Hop Fan
Ich starte
thirteen cents
A bussel to ship it to Vancouver, fifty-hundred and sixty dollars
Within four years they'll likely be paying twice as much
And within
Spongebozz Gunshot, der G der mit der Glock Cops anschoss
Beliefer' mit dem Stoff Los Santos
Grand Theft Auto, riesige Villa wie 50 Cent
Westcode
denken, sie sind fifty Cent
MCs in Germany blasen in Michigan
Lass die Straße brenn', das ist FFM
Mainhattan, Messer in dein Arsch
Los, wehr' dich mit
if I die
They won't give my mama a dime
That's why I'ma get rich or die tryin'
Like 50 Cent, niggas talkin' ridin'
Slidin' drive by but ain't shootin'
They call me Road Runner, I leave that ass in the dust (aight)
I drink the heat from beneath the Earth's core (yeah)
Six million and fifty degrees,
from harpoon gun - The sea turns red - What have we done?
A horrific death by harpoon - Scientific research? Blue whales, the largest animals
of rosemary
If in the obituary column, sniff it
It was written by the forks
And knives of Mary Mallon fever in the stew
Sorta buried in rabbit's and boiled
up with that Blanc Sauvignon
Keep it up Imitated duplicated by none
You bet yo ass I'mma better mentor for your only son
Haberdashous Roll the Film
20k each or 20 years bitch
Y'all better pick your poison
Call on your hommies to bail on you
Someone you think who could save you, or maybe we drive
in the hoods over 50 years
And they still ain't doing nothing for us
When I say us, the hebrew israelites are
So-called black people
We need to see
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