Lyrics:
a fifty round in that Glock
Plush leather when you droppin' the top
I push a button, now I can't stop
I'm doin' donuts, turnin' out the lot
Stayin'
to copy
Fuck what you thought, I ain't gon stop till I'm
Rich, balling
hoes keep calling
Kicks, got em
Bitch, model
I don't wanna
Might just have
bank account is zillion
Pretty Babies by my side
Yiee
By my side yiee
P3 kakra
Like waddle said (Yeahh)
Who says money ain't sweet
Sika y3 mogya
If you
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
ain't gone sip it all
Somewhere up in the sky you can't lift off
Stop lying to me girl I'm getting pissed off
I ain't coming back home I need a get away
booth, blacking out
It's Con Air style, real twisted, I disappear on some Blair Witch shit
Comin' back I'm rich kid
Either or, you can't stop me with my
pounds
I ain't from a softy town
Niggas'll break your bones, crack your faith
Call the doctor, let him put it back in place
Ha ha ha, 50 Cent yeah what
to hella bands
Swear to God we ain't have shit
We slide down in that minivan
I feel like Curtis Jackson
Bitch I'm feelin' like 50 Cent
G Unit... 50 Cent... Shady... Aftermath... the dream team
We gotta get the get well cards... niggaz is sick
Feel this...(non stop)...
Motion
Super fly like so, niggas lying like "So?"
Still spit it how I live it on the Hill, here I go, go
Hey all I do is go and go by this and that
you can't find it on a dollar bill
And it ain't on Macy's window sill
And it ain't on no rich kid's road map
And it ain't in no fat kid's fraternity
got 50 Cent and I'm down to last dime
So I gotta get rich or I'm down to die trying
I'll bring a fucking massacre like my first name was Curtis
Right
and fire
I ain't tryin' to hear shit I'm supposed to be rich
Motherfucker get in the way of my bread
Then I'm goin' load my shit then cock my shit
Nigga
and fire
I ain't tryin' to hear shit I'm supposed to be rich
Motherfucker get in the way of my bread
Then I'm goin' load my shit then cock my shit
Nigga
cuz I paid my dues, and I ain't out here lying
I'm on it, I been focused, you ain't notice you can't stop it
But I'm still pushing, that pressure play
on tucked in
Niggas wanna violate, then I get to upping
Yuh
Bottom line, Yuh
I ain't one for it, nigga better stop trying
I ain't lying, Yuh
She pop a Xan now
Beware of these fake gangsters...
But why they fake gangsters..
c penny for ur thoughts naw I aint givin 50 cents to a wanksta...
I'm the assassin
wrist, and it's glistenin' (drip, drip)
The bitch got mad, I dissed her (hey)
Shawty, you ain't nothin' to a rich nigga (nothin')
I put a check
be keeping it real, aye
Keep this shit a dollar, I don't keep it fifty cent
I was out there every night, that Marathon on 55th
Nigga all I know is
blue coupe
Big rocks in the stone boy you know what we do
Remember them days when we ain't had no food
50 cent cake for just me and my crew
My mother
(uh-huh)
Now Peter Piper picked peppers, and Run rocked rhymes
I'm 50 Cent, I write a little bit, but I pop 9s (brrt)
Tell niggas, get they money right,
(uh-huh)
Now Peter Piper picked peppers, and Run rocked rhymes
I'm 50 Cent, I write a little bit, but I pop 9s (brrt)
Tell niggas, get they money right,
God did, God did, I'm a witness (woo)
I just sent fifty bottles to bitches (woo)
Know the gang in the VIP by the pendant
Still in a meeting, be back
them outfits Skims (shit, okay)
That bandana burgundy 'cause of brims
Fifty cent tear out that seal no bird gang, this him
You ain't fly, that ain't
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