Lyrics:
high, hands up high
[VERSE 1: 50 CENT]
You wanna dance lets dance nigga ill take you to da prom
I'm armed tre pound in my palm I'm calm
Nigga my mamma
high, hands up high
[VERSE 1: 50 CENT]
You wanna dance lets dance nigga ill take you to da prom
I'm armed tre pound in my palm I'm calm
Nigga my mamma
off the tree
Got VVS, this Water by G
It fit my wrist, a new Patek Phillipe
Ah, brand new coupe, I drop the top (Hood Baby)
Only 19 and I never
Look man! You're botherin' me G
I got shit to do right now, aight?
This is for De La Soul, you know what I'm sayin'
Word up I got shit to do you
won't get a cent from me
Only when I die
Will she ever love me
I just hit the highway
Making money my way
Always by my lonely
You could never catch me
fifty cents
The ghetto got me crazy, I smell daisies
But I can't die tonight my old lady's pregnant with a baby
Tupac said there's a heaven foe a G
But I
a motherfuckin' gangster
I got fifty racks right now (right now, right now)
A couple killers in the back right left
New Double R, grippin' my banger
Countin' up
only been mastered by a few
I take a half a million tapes sell 'em straight to you
All that shit niggas talking just cant be real
I dont need a record
when I leave it's the dick you missing
Did it on my own don't need prescriptions
Ever since a young kid had the mission
Bitch like 50 cents
Bought her
I don't need no friends I don't need no new friends
I got Benjamin's I got Benjamin's
Uhhh dead presidents ayy where ya at
Shit, I don't need no
with the belt
Plus I'm so hot I just make the shit melt
All by myself all by myself
All by myself I don't need nobody else
N I will not stop til I'm
my circle
The ones that acting phony
Hard as fuck, put it on cement
Card of luck, peachy be my scent
Pimp on God, call me 50 Cent
Cadillac, tell me how
over 50 cent get the strap
Rental cars from Silver Boys, we pullin up in black
Life's a gamble, no fish table, we high stacks
You niggas fake, I know
could tell by his look
Cause he looked the way I look
When I look for a jooks
Bitch
Motherfucker
Teamwork, work hard nigga
50 cent
Rotten Apple
G-UNIT
(check)
The roof topless, I'm showin' my ass
I brought New York back ya niggas ain't got a chance
Remix!
We fly high no lie you know this (ballin!)
a Honda Came with 4 doors
She got like 5 bitches, by my lonely Called up 4 bros
He said he had some property, where At? That shit foreclosed
Niggas acting,
G-Unit (bah), we in here (bah)
We can get the drama popping, we don't care (bah-bah-bah)
It's goin' down (bah), 'cause I'm around (bah)
50 Cent
G-Unit (bah), we in here (bah)
We can get the drama popping, we don't care (bah-bah-bah)
It's goin' down (bah), 'cause I'm around (bah)
50 Cent
And I take great pleasure in introducing, 50 Cent
It's bottle after bottle
The money ain't a thing when you party with me
It's what we into, it's
and you'll end up in your lawn
It's the protege of 50, inspired by Biggie
Burns more than Ziggy, them lil' niggaz dig me
I been stressed out lately, so I'm
rapper tryin' to mimic him
And that's what really rose up out of Michigan,
The sign of white rapper by the name of 50 Cent, ha!
You would never know
shit don't even make no fucking sense
Like having fuckin' arguments for payin' 50 extra cents for barbecue
Saucing on the workers at McDonald's
I
new I done had a plenty
Shit better be a 10 can’t bag a penny
Picky icky Crews rollin up a sticky
So when she drop it down low ima run it to the 50
Yeah
ain't new to this
Shit, I should be tutoring
Beef with me like you and Sidis in a math contest
Know who'll win it goddamn
Her body like Mewtwo
Made her
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