Lyrics:
a magazine
I can pull out my chain yelling bada bling
Or on a G4 plane sitting by the wing
Telling you the leather feel good don't it
For 50 thou you'll have
a magazine
I can pull out my chain yelling bada bling
Or on a G4 plane sitting by the wing
Telling you the leather feel good don't it
For 50 thou you'll have
a magazine
I can pull out my chain yelling bada bling
Or on a G4 plane sitting by the wing
Telling you the leather feel good don't it
For 50 thou you'll have
to the basics and break it all the way all the way down
You can hate it but face it B.I.G. and 2Pac just ain't around
Everywhere you go, there I go, I'm 50 Cent
to the basics and break it all the way all the way down
You can hate it but face it B.I.G. and 2Pac just ain't around
Everywhere you go, there I go, I'm 50 Cent
Right now with the situation gettin' better
So I'm doin' you things, holla
Yeah, 50 Cent, uh huh, check me outt
Now piece by piece we put it all
it right
Don't make a ass outta yourself, by assumin
My music keeps you movin, what are you provin?
You know that I'm two levels above you baby
Hug
it right
Don't make a ass outta yourself, by assumin
My music keeps you movin, what are you provin?
You know that I'm two levels above you baby
Hug
Slangin the fyntonal rein up snow
cll of my bad bitches heart always cold
Surrounded by gangsters dont none of them fold
Come to my hood gotcha bitch
and imma say it to yo face again
Make a song with 50 cent and call it many men
Have praise for a nigga in the red now
Cuz I'm the king and imma say it till
Not 50cent but
We got star power
This a g unit
Keep stick wit some fire power
Dont make me use it
Never ever been scared of the smoke
Im an abuser
Im
beneath the new pa-paya tree
We'll send your papa fifty-cent cigar
'Cause he's a proud pa-paya grand-pa-pa!
Pa-paya mama, pearl of the deep blue
sense
I say them for free than paying fifty cents
For every lyric could leave a dent
Making history with every word I won't relent
To all my haters I'll
Spongebozz Gunshot, der G der mit der Glock Cops anschoss
Beliefer' mit dem Stoff Los Santos
Grand Theft Auto, riesige Villa wie 50 Cent
Westcode
blick, the only thing you bust is wrist
Pill-poppin' demon, syrup-sippin' goonie
I don't make music for the rappers, I make luxury chopper music
Rainin'
Gegenteil von Bill Gates
Dieser Araber, der jeden Cent umdreht
Pushe meine Gegend, Blut gegen Blut 2
Junge pass auf, das hier ist 'n Drive By
Bin gelangweilt
a hit, take a puff, make some sense
It takes some cents to make a dollar so I'm making sense!
This my "track music"
Running laps but I never going back
mama, your uncle, your cousin?
I’m showing love cuz it’s really just nothing
Was up in the club, bottle of bub’
I’m fifty cent, man I’m all the above
I’m
to dress , couldn’t sag my regular pants
And gotta kiss they ass if you tryna get a 50 cent advance
And unlike 50 cent, I’m not of many men
Sell shares
nine by the stop sign bout fifty thousand in the stash spot
Pray to God we don't crash in the whip through the dash
I could tap the gas and make that
They told me they gon' get me if
They do it's by a long shot
But we gon' keep sendin' shots up
Until my heart stops
Know they wanna see me dead
making since now I need it to make some cents
I need like 50
Double that and make a dollar
Move the app like Benihanas
Fresh done tapped into his bag
This
one day down the line he'd be my first influence
Uh yeah next came 50 Cent and G-Unit
That's when I fell in love with music
Nothing's been the same I've
this ain't for you it's for the thugs, honey
Ayo, my shit's the truth, hunnid fifty proof no question
Parental discretion advised, keep out the eyes
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