Lyrics:
(50 Cent) G-Unit! Ha Ha! 50 Cent Hook: If some shots may happen to go off tonight Don't worry about me I be aight Niggaz could waiste ammo firin
lika gatherin
So dont be playn with me
Uan got no sense (cents)
Uan tough you jus playn fifty
Nigga im the one
Fuck a two
Understand nigga
Gon
for a cup? Three-fifty
What I payed for a pint? A cheap Civic
You got two ears for a reason, bitch, listen
Somehow I got lean on my BB Simon
How
(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,
killers T-R-U 'cross my stomach
Yo' neighborhood thug nigga, tryin to make it
Out this fucked up environment
Where niggaz die tryin to make a dollar outta
And called him Jim
You have already met her. She is Della
Della finished her crying and cleaned the marks of it from her face
She stood by the window
to save it
When you older I explain it
These niggas ain't really wavy
They copy and follow trends
I ain't have 50 cent
Now I'm hated by many men
Hot boxes
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
rap songs
And I ain't blaming 50 Cent, I can't blame T.I.P or JEEZY
Them brothers just making plenty paper off their life stories
See me, myself, I try
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
taxin' em'
Early on, "you gotta get a job" their parents said
So the president can charge you gallons up to your last cent
Come up and get yourself some
Niggas owe me I'm aggravated when you making a payment
I need every cent don't stay wit mama paying full rent
Saying shit like it got spent can get yo
that's a big black bug,
Got your 50 cent fortune tucked under your rug.
You got your zoot suit body bag ready to blast off.
I'm in a milk crate by your
stars made by cinnamon
I feel like 50 Cent, I'm hated, yes, by many men
She look me dead up in my eyes, baby, do you love
Him, or me (or me)
Not one
Cent
By the time your new recording is all complete
Odds are fifty-fifty, it's obsolete
Now there's a half-pint dude with a saxophone
Blowin'
Doc-Trizzy, Shady-Twizzie slash Aftermath
50 Cent, G-Unit, here we go, free Yayo
Motherfuck a Benzino, they don't know we finna blow
Someone better tell 'em
hear that joint let me get it
Got a joint better hit it, you better quit
Words from my mouth razors
Scarring your face, with deep south boom bap by DJ
are goals you just gotta Get your asses up
Read all the blue prints make Moves don't be a nuisance
Not worried about your two Cents
Bruh you can't even
[50 Cent] + (Tony Yayo)
(Yeah, yeah) Yeah (G-UNIT!!)
My Polo on (check) my Dolce on (check)
It's my crew and Polow Da Don
I get that kitty ma
(yeah)
Yeah, don't make me hit you with that bow
Help, I've fallen, I can't get up
I live in dark, get rich or die tryin'
Like 50 Cent, minute man
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
the shines I want it
Give me I want it
Look
I have nada it's hard to find a cent
Even more hard to get fifty cent
But I'm a nigga who get rich or die trying
Fifty Cent
Stay focused on the grind
My nigga I swear you're not missing shit
I feel like I'm Fifty
I'm rocking out on a mission
I remember days when I
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