Lyrics:
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
Spinning on the dance floor
Ddd dance floor
We, don't need, your greed, we're free
Free
Weren't planning a night out
We just thought we'd pass by
Skip
shit, it was ninety-nine cents (bag it)
Coppin' it, washin' it, 'bout to go and get some compliments
Passin' up on those moccasins someone else has been
disease
In they yearly matin' spots, spawn a million MC's
They used to go to shows, drink dance get high
Then you click the mic the whole audience wanna
Adlibs Out!!!!
Written By Qwes Kross
Publishing 50/50 Global Muzik Publishing/Sony Music Publishing/Orchard Music Publishing
baby
Uh, come on y'all
It's still y'all same old dawg
Surviving Sickle Cell like bullets to the jaw
Fifty Cent power, for this shit I should get paid by
through your windows or your door
Grab it by the tail
Yucca man
Yucca man
If I had a dollar--cut it in two--give you fifty cents
But the rock will
Myself
D12
50 Cent
Obie Trice
Stat Quo
And I would also like to introduce
The two newest members of the family
One goes by the name of Bobby Creek
wife dig me
Game try and hit me
Kick game like 50 cent
Niggas wanna play games I quickly
Mob with a squad that will bang y'all wit' me
And they want
Southern Smoke!!!
[Speaking]
Yeah. Ho!
It's Drake. Uh Uh. Ho!
Do that dance. Do that Dance
[Chorus:]
You special girl, don't leave me baby
To find
take her out to dance
You're living in a honky tonk world
Sooner or later, all you couch potatoes
You're gonna be the lonely ones
If you want good
together we made it
我背着一
书包现金去买车
I cop a car with cash full of my backpack
后
视镜的自己像是
50 Cent
一
样的笑着
I am smiling like 50 Cent in the mirror
给我支笔我甚至都不需要纸
就能
Blickky hold the fifty uh
Run get done like Ricky uh
Sayin that you got when I don’t I’m like bitch gimme some
Bullets is for anyone
And I cant
need you by my side
'Cause I don't wanna dance without you with me
Into the purple sky
Livin' like a soulless pirate somewhere lost at sea
Nascar (skrt)
Ho Smith and Wess, spendo fifty cash
Sto trappando, uh, con le Saci
Come 50 Cent sto nel club bitch
Sono un playboy senza Carti (grr)
row in a Tom Ford poncho, yeah (Yeah)
My bitch sit Indian style, yeah
Smokin' on Runtz by the pound (smokin' on Runtz)
Young niggas crazy put switch
by the Swiss
Worn by the rich, with that shit you can sniff
Got not time to play 'round, it's way too much in my mix
I'm talking dollars and cents
Thursday
Got her rollin up my weed on the interstate
Fifty racks all blues, put it in the safe
She go dance on that dick like a strippa
Fuck me so good, got
plans, and it really hurts
Every time I go fishin' it'd always start me wishin'
That I could be a child again
Take my 50 cents and go down to the local
be big as 50 Cent in his hay day
No Hurricane Chris, but I been searching
"Aye bay-bay"
I'll turn this fucking place into a circus and melee
Why so
Yo no soy 50 Cent, pero si era un window shopper
Ze pequeño no para, deja vacía toda' la CC's
(toda' la CC's)
Dicen soy antisocial, porque me la suda
no IQ. F*ck who you dial n*gga they can die too, these streets about survival. There's two types of n*ggas in life, 50 cents and Ja rules. Which one
farm-raised
For 50 Cent, I went to war with many men
Then slapped them with the jacket like Benny Hinn
I'm hittin' that jet fuel, you're new in the game,
I'm a gangsta
(Come on)
Real gangsta, let it go
(G, G, G, G you know)
Uh, the game took a turn crazy, it's all gravy
Thanks to 50 Cent and Shady, they
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