Lyrics:
Tryna get 50 cents to me
Stupid I turn into G Unit
Make em beg for mercy
Fuck juice, get a keg I'm thirsty
Walk in the VMA's while your mans rehearsing
I
two weeks been busy, I'm movin' in
I told my mom look out her window to another Benz
She took nine shots of Patron, 50 Cent
I bent the corner
on my side
Devil thought he tried
We gon' testify
God is on my side
God is on my side, yuh
In the city lookin' spiffy spent like 50 baby, uh
Why they
of my shoes
They too timid to even make it a single minute
I was molded by the pain
Shit, I'm Bane, I was raised in it
You and me are not the same
I was
Ima dread head like rasta nem
Dont make me call my shotta nem
Im suited like obama nem
My niggas aint no stopping nem
Im zooted call up 50, he gon dunk
car
Blowing horns like Miles Davis
At the pearly gate, God let me in
Give me a room by Aaliyah with ESPN
I know I got more sins than two lesbians
Been
place called Queens[01:27.50]A momma gave birth to a King[01:29.08]And so it seemed[01:30.19]He was a palpable soul[01:32.01]Who was surely
The deals been done buh I haven't seen my cut since then
Bruh you mad or you deaf
When I said I can smoke your pop for my 50 cents
Man so lyrical
Mystical
bird gave me head
Because Fab was with us
Could care less who your bitch be feeling
I'm in a loft with nice
Floors and crispy ceiling
As long as I get it
And nigga raised by the rat's roaches
Real youngen holdin coke
State they gave my man life
Feds they gave my man 10
Messin with this dirty game feel like
I'm
Nigga the work a 9 say its 10
Scribble on the check whit a pen
Right now im wearing Dior but you know I rock louie linen
50cent glass jaw
Shoot his chin
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
ain't seen him but I
Heard he still a bitch
I ain't get a thang off yo plate
I ain't splitting shit
Get rich or die trying
Bitch can't get fifty cent
this can't be life (yeah)
Shit get real, me and K. on back
(Stay on back, nigga, do what you gotta do)
Never came back in that black on black
I still do
knees and bless me with a gem in the Caribbean
Skiin' off by P.M.
Snatch Canadian cream with Scandinavians
Fellatium style, play it like thirty two
ain't my style
Now let me take you back to a fucking time that was simple
Back to a time fore' my face had a pimple
Daddy getting stares cause my daddy
later,
Another fifty to seventy five rounds
Were fired in the street
And you're gonna stand here
And tell me you didn't see a god damn thing?
I
Tesla
Clap that ting on a vespa
I aint the boasting type
Why man had 50 racks by the dresser
I used to feel pressure
These days man have you
Nanked with
(Oh, the wine cooler)
Johnny Ryall is the bum on my stoop
I gave him fifty cents to buy some soup
He knows the time with the fresh Gucci watch
yo head will get whipped lil nigga
Fifty cent for nine shots your body get dropped knock you off the block lil nigga
Headed straight to the top while
Gave you my two cents, ain't got money babe
I'll take you somewhere fun and tell you something funny
Something funny, babe
When I open my eyes
Oh,
but gettin' big
Half the niggas I run wit' gettin' jig
The other fifty cent balancin' a bid
Oh shit, got this bitch seeded
To God I pleaded
to the sky and I thank God I ain't a dirtball
Huh, let it sink in
I'm going hard, I'm pouring lean, I'm in the deep end
They try to judge me, always tell me
young niggas about to spend
They know I throw loco when it's about my Benjamin
Feelin' just like 50 Cent, hated by so many men
Woke up like a bank
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