Lyrics:
pull a fast one
Fifty cent flashin they hate us wit a passion
Mashin, still fresh in three-day old fashion
Your plaid, I'm stripes, together we be
The Fonz, you see the collar up
I spit out a bullet, load the barrel up
I kamikaze ya town off a Arab bus
Karat cut, yeah mami pull over
I bend ya pussy
cracker a day (what? Oh shit)
Girl, well, I heard the bitch was married to Tim
And started fucking with Trina
Well, I heard the bitch got hit by three
cracker a day (what? Oh shit)
Girl, well, I heard the bitch was married to Tim
And started fucking with Trina
Well, I heard the bitch got hit by three
in Hollywood cause I remember when I had 50 Cent, up In Da Club
All my life I knew I was major, I don't need no major
I don't even write rhymes, I
Live by the gun die by the same shit you bust
Fly bitches with waves from DC to Cali
Rally and tally up my dough
For the grand finale
Grapevines
a chopper price get this low
See I cop em' in Atlanta bring
Em' back to Alabama Avenue
And tell them niggas "come and
Get it let's go"
Fifty in the Mac take
Oh, oh, Gggga Gggga G-UNIT
(UNIT, haha) , yeah, it's 50 CENT (CENT)
And Lloyd Banks
(BANKS) , and Tony Yayo (YAYO)
Nigga, nigga (haha, haha)
You
a fucking drive-by
Riggety rolled on them slow in the Cadillac
Silkk behind the wheel, me and King in the pack
Master P in the passenger seat getting
to the center
To get the vending machines
Where he then he would be seen
Gettin' some mini m&m's and some mints
When he went and he spent 50 cent
That he sent
Dr. Dre says crunk, you will get it crunk
Get it crunk (crunk, crunk, crunk)
And when 50 Cent says jump, you get on one foot and
Jump (jump, jump,
Dr. Dre says crunk, you will get it crunk
Get it crunk (crunk, crunk, crunk)
And when 50 Cent says jump, you get on one foot and
Jump (jump, jump,
planted fear inside the black babies
Fifty cent sodas in the hood, they going crazy
Dead meat placed on the shelves, we eat cold cuts
Fast from the hog
planted fear inside the black babies
Fifty cent sodas in the hood, they going crazy
Dead meat placed on the shelves, we eat cold cuts
Fast from the hog
dope
You fin' to lose when dope
Fiends cut ya fuckin throat
You see my shit is legit, so it's on
Cut a fifty cent slab
And tell that bitch to get gone
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
a shame I can kill you just alone by name
Gas them up I didn't need a flame
Two hundred and fifty makes me go insane
Seeing shit I can't explain
It's
[50 Cent]
ay , yo we can't stay alive forever,
so if the shit hits tha fan then we might as well die together, im hi as ever, more hoe's and more
the shooter
[Verse One: 50 Cent]
I'll bang out, I'll, I'll, I'll bang out
Find out shit is real when I'm at you with that thang out
Cause all kind of commotion
flood her house with pounds and bricks
I'm on a whole 'nother level, the shit you did can't amount to this
Help you climb a mountain, you cut my wrist
We pull up and
Shut it down
And we do the most
Cut from a cloth
That turn wool to gold
Costume made costumes
With jewels that glow
You see the cuts
In
shit out
Let me see what this all about 1-9-0-0-Master-P
[Master P]
Yo, what's up this is your nigga Master P
Sorry I'm unavailiable to come
See me in the black Benz just blowin up the cellular
We high as shit, the sky is it
You know the sewer style yo is fly as shit
So grip (what?),
the cut
Fisticuffs, the lady gave her eighty-some paper cut
Now picture us it's ridiculous you curse at the thought
'Cause when I spit the verse the shit
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