Lyrics:
good at rapping
That pussy you pay to see
Boy I had it
My Status
Had shawty infatuated
Gave me brain that showcases she graduated
I bring pain
were getting high
Nou ke blaya music bang posta who am I
I'm the ghetto God touch down in P Town ketwa K9
Hey
My demons are Siding with me
50 cent
forgot about me
All about I cause I done gave up on we
And niggas ain’t real and I’m just calling what I see
Came a long way from the lifestyle that I used
they aint never get me shit
Been five years still ain't making any sense (cents)
Just jump off if you living on the fence
I don't gotta stunt I just
grandpa's style, I'ma take your grandpa's style
No, for real, ask your grandpa, can I have his hand-me-downs? (Thank you)
Velour jumpsuit and some house
I ain't never gave fuck about another motherfucker
Every night that I pray to god that I don't kill a undercover
Word to my mother, give the world
we submit
Won't allow it
Gave my two Cents
And even if I knew fifty I'd still be lacking the power
Ghost, gone, vanished, non-existent
But back
Ten Benjamins on my wrist
Like I'm Ben Ten
Win, win again, win again
And then win again
Ten, 10k, 100k, to a million
I got a lot more than 50 Cent
I
Trapped in this rapture
GOD speaking through me
He said I'm a pastor
They took my daddy
I grew up a bastard
Time waits for no man
I'm moving faster
New York City
You are now rocking, with 50 Cent
You gotta love it
I just wanna chill and twist the lah
Catch stunts in my 7-45
You drive me
less than an hour
Before I had 50 cent
I knew I had power
Back when I heated hot water to wash pretend its a shower
Then a beginning penman
Novice sniper
grandpa's style, I'ma take your grandpa's style
No, for real, ask your grandpa, can I have his hand-me-downs? (Thank you)
Velour jumpsuit and some house
I be the worst like nick
To all them m.c. thugs
Like them four little kids
And the teacher gettin' plugged
I don't give a fuck style
Tell me
and gimmicks
An image, they phone in for ten cents a minute
I knew that since I entered, the rap game, my style
Would have niggas takin' it back but what about
acrobatic backward flips.
The baddest bitch on my hip,
Price on his head make change like he 50cent.
Never snitch, i plead the fifth, i drink a fifth.
Front
poor
Y'all
Shady
Shady (shady)
Yeah, bitch, come on
I done worked hard all night, shit
Put that one thing on, throw that one dress on for me (me
New York City
You are now rocking, with 50 Cent
You gotta love it
I just wanna chill and twist the lah
Catch stunts in my 7-45
You drive me
God put them in
Father Son Spirit I got plenty friends
This is not fifty cent (No) We got many men
(Yeah) Bring the lions out take them out the den
history of hip-hop
From way way back
(His martha gupa's?) Hip-Hop Father
Charlie Ahern Wild Style
And 50 Cent's Fifty and More
I used to read this to my
one all
In all, they gave me magazines, tea
Some better soap than the prison's soap
An earphone radio, and extra chow
There's Chris
Who gave me
I let one take my chain
Imma have to blow a brain
God blessing me know that I'm heaven sent
Y'all got a youngin Bent
Got put that body up stuff it
they won't tell me what not to say
And though me and my party days have all pretty much parted ways
You'd swear to God I've forgot I'm the guy that
, nine times outta ten the nine is on me
Feds search the god, but nothin' they find on me
When I rap don't wait to clap applaud sooner
Unless you hate
mattress bed
In fact I get practice being dead but I sure feel like I am on fifty shades of meds
Let me get that Adderall I'll give you fifty cents i insist
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