Lyrics:
50 Cent, Ludacris, Public Enemy, ScHoolboy Q
I was rapping with artists I'd never heard of before
Who ripped the mic in ways I'd never seen in person
cashman
When the rain pour
Have ya rain coat
Close to being rich 50 cent from being broke
All black gnights I be talking like the pope
All black lil nigga
[Chorus: 50 Cent]
I'll, I'll be the shooter, I'll, I'll be the shooter
I'll, I'll use the pump, the taurus or the ruger
I'll pop somethin through ya,
got fifty more until this song go out
Forty-nine lines to go, I'm really out here chasin' pape
Dissin' in a song, I bet you get put on First forty-eight
Travelling 50 miles just to see her in the flesh
Now the constant daily reminder of nothing that I can do
Hope you're in a better place and you'll have your
"take your clothes off!"
Ayo, the Devil planted fear inside the black babies
Fifty cent sodas in the hood, they going crazy
Dead meat placed
"take your clothes off!"
Ayo, the Devil planted fear inside the black babies
Fifty cent sodas in the hood, they going crazy
Dead meat placed
nothin, she just knows
By the way I look at her to take off all her clothes
Up and down
[Chorus: Lloyd Banks + (50 Cent)]
Whenever I'm not around, and you
for my fuckin' Pumas, run home and go fuck my room up
These streets will try to vacuum you up
That's why the avenue where I grew up was 8 Mile
One tenth of a milligram
An ounce of this material would make a hundred and fifty thousand such doses (wow)
Let us observe the effects
We get it
We
And I gotta drive 10 miles to work but my truck got stuck in snow
Well that’s just my luck there goes 50 more bucks to get that darn thing towed
On an 8 Mile mission with Cypress and OG's
Shit's about to change, 'cause we ain't playin' no games
We ain't budgin', neither are they, and we ain't
five cents
It's seven, eight or nine, seventh time a month supply that
By fifty thousand, no more browsin', bitch I'm buyin' that
I'm ridin' 'Llac
the Chosen one
By the way she acting yeah, she can be my hun
Like fifty cent you wanna be best friend
If relation will you be my rider to the end
Confessions
[50 Cent:]
Yeeh...
I'm'a Soldier, I Done Told Ya, Don't Make Me Fuck You Up
Leave You Head Bust, I'm'a Head Busta, Man I Don't Give A Fuck
I'm'a
G-G-G-G-G-G-Unit
50 Cent, nigga (Uh, huh) , Tony Yayo (yeah)
Whoo Kid (Is this what you want?)
Yeah, and you don't stop
I do a one-eight
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
a sprained jaw
A lot of rappers on my list that just ain't Ja
And I'ma read that motherfucker off come April
You pussies think I went soft 'cause 8 mile
with no miles
They think they do and we don't, I don't know how
Run through the load, call the plug, I need more pounds
'Cause I put on drip every day
of pushing broom buys a
Eight by twelve four bed room, I'm a
Man of means by no means
King of the road
Trailers for sale or rent
Rooms to let, fifty cents
No
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
watched the sun comin' up
Through the fog on the windshield
Through the steam from the cup
Eight more miles
Eight more miles
Eight more miles
We'll
fifty cents
No phone, no pool, no pets, I ain't got no cigarettes, ah but
Two hours of pushing broom buys a eight by twelve four bit room
I'm a man
Followed by two-six-five-three-five-eight-nine
Circumference over diameter
Seven-nine, then three-two-three
OMG, can't you see?
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