Lyrics:
me
Grew up in the slums never dumb was friendly
But the streets beat it outta me tell 'em I'm deadly (I'm deadly)
By the end of 5th grade more than
shit, maybe I'm on my 50 cent
I mean I have taken 9 shots, one more and hold the rocks
Like Pat Tillman, I'll put this 40 on your chest
I'm Sia with
around
I sing, trailers for sale or rent
Rooms to let, 50 cents
I'm a man of means by no means
King of the road
With something gorgeous
Put highway miles on these bitches
Like a tour bus
Daddy Warbucks, without a born trust
Diamonds all on this black gold
Like
murder, and got locked up in jail,
And had to hang until your life was done,
I wouldn't call it murder for inspection not a rope
I'll be by your side
sh** is kinda crazy
8 plus 9, that's seventeen if you add it up
Made fifty K, I know these n****s all was mad as f***
When my granddad died he was 88
He
dollars, ninety-eight cents. I keep it one hundred and I tell her..
Keep the change for your two cents. I grind hard, bitch, to the point where I don't
house with eight vowels
You was like Eminem off of eight mile
In your shitty house writing rap songs
I use to run in niggas house with the mac on
I guess
H Town bass
Harlem Shake down, Cape Town
Till the details of our escape down
We was hungry but it's more than enough on the plate now
8 mile
stuck for so long to the steering wheel
Seven out of ten
Eight out of ten
Nine out of ten
Good shot
Here's your 50 cents
Good luck
best trade unions
I could find, I paid my wages, a, dues six months in advance
I waded forty eight miles of swamps and six big rivers
Walked across two
one-fifty on 8 Mile
My dirtbike's on 10 Mile, no friends now
Problems, I don't let them kill me
Clap one time if y'all feel me (bitch)
Clap one time if
I'm in twenty fifty eight
Hot as hell I might of did a tour in all fifty states
I aint greedy but the gang wit me we need fifty plates
And now these
high, hands up high
[VERSE 1: 50 CENT]
You wanna dance lets dance nigga ill take you to da prom
I'm armed tre pound in my palm I'm calm
Nigga my mamma
high, hands up high
[VERSE 1: 50 CENT]
You wanna dance lets dance nigga ill take you to da prom
I'm armed tre pound in my palm I'm calm
Nigga my mamma
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
Trailers 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
Trailer for sale or rent, rooms to let fifty cents
No phone, no pool, no pets, I ain't got no cigarettes
I am a, two hours of pushin' broom buys
look just like baby dimes
I'm on the corner selling whole eights
I don't remember being this fuckin paranoid since I sold weight
I went from 50 sacs
more pacing
I need dollars commas and cents
Execute we proactive
Procrastination can get you hit
Lesson learnt
Money well spent
You trust everybody
Naw
kens
I broke a couple a records
And set a couples trends
Get rich or die trying well I need a quicker lick
Nah I need a 100, what's this 50cents
I
Trailers for sale of rent
Rooms to let 50 cents, now
No phone, no pool, no pets
I ain't got no cigarettes
Now two hours of shoving broom
But
a special from the NiNE8 Collective
That's that real live bunch from West of the river,
and I am referring to the WEST SIDE, NW & SW REGIONS...NiNE8
going
In the arms making workplace
Then they pretend to be gripped by
Some sort of political reflex
But all they're doing is paying dues
To the Military
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