Lyrics:
Woah, woah, wassup, wassup
Thanks for having me, I appreciate it
Thank you for stopping by
I see you got our voicemail, too cool to answer the phone
Yeah
Super hero
Clark kent
Feel like 03
50 cent
I done gave more
Then I spent
Let me vent
of God it's been gravy lately
Used to believe them lies of the haters I let 'em sway me
Gave attention to useless rumors and talkin' it drove me crazy
But
from 50 Cent side, but we already knew how to rob
Mom tried to get the church to talk to me so I could stop
We used to walk to the park, now we spinning
Let me take these bricks and break 'em down
If you want I can serve 'em by the pound
Shorty know she's got what I wanna flip
Baby girl tell me you
Let me take these bricks and break 'em down
If you want I can serve 'em by the pound
Shorty know she's got what I wanna flip
Baby girl tell me you
cause he lays down the law so smooth like little tiles
He might switch up his style so you better not question
What an almighty God does with
the road with 50 cent
Kidd you still not rich?
But I'mma serve these dimes 'til
I pit that brick
If my life was a disc I'd skip that shit?
Nigga, roaches
the road with 50 cent
Kidd you still not rich?
But I'mma serve these dimes 'til
I hit that brick
If my life was a disc I'd skip that shit?
Nigga, roaches
the Ason
Givin' it to ya raw baby
The raw deal, because
These lovely rhymes made by the one and only
I'm Ason, there's nothin' phony about me
time
God outlined me to shine like the claw during clutch times through these cold rhymes
Not a lot of dope minds left just doped minds which leaves
Writing rhymes at night in the house by myself
I open mailboxes, all I see was more bills
Gettin' cold chicken, walkin' down Ryan's hills
Askin' moms for 50
down, I was hung down
Brung down, hung up and all kinds of mean, nasty, ugly things
And I walked in, I sat down, they gave me a piece of paper that
Don't feel sad that you don't yet feel P
Even I underrated P
I gave you a few proofs so you can go
And let me know if ever you need some more
I
to Jesus Christ, we started eating
Freedom, freely come easy by reading
I dropped that Gifted and Lifted 3 call it a 3 peat
God's spirit is in me, in
Get up on hustle, don't feel sorry for yourself
Get that generation wealth
Can't play with me, I play chess by myself
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
God
the label of the month
Like 'yo, what's the half kid, let me get a deal'
Got a dope style, sound just like so and so
What's her name, runnin from ya, even
50 Cent:
I don't know what u heard about me
But a bitch can't get a dollar out of me
No Cadillac, no perms u can't see
That I'm a motherfucking
Ya Know?!
(Damn Moon, thats hard)
Yeah, seal popper
I make 50 off a pop up
I'm mr. pipe her up if she talk to me proper
Percocet and xanny she put
will never last
I heard that you feel up mans
When they're in the bath
Skepta makes me laugh
I gave him an ounce of skunk and he
Thought it was a 4
as a light tan
With plastic faces and rubber hands
Fuck fame, I shoot a hole in a 50 cent piece to test my aim
How dare you call the Gods in vain
Not
as a light tan
With plastic faces and rubber hands
Fuck fame, I shoot a hole in a 50 cent piece to test my aim
How dare you call the Gods in vain
Not
itself commercialize
Common thieves exposing crime
Bigger size
Pick a side
Order fries
I don't mind
Vocalize
Special style
Read me now
Depends on if you
All the people that didn't want me way back
I tell them all that I got a new taste
When I start doing shows
And making bread off the 6 God
Man, it's
Discuss these god gave me the style by 50 cent Lyrics with the community:
Report Comment
We're doing our best to make sure our content is useful, accurate and safe.
If by any chance you spot an inappropriate comment while navigating through our website please use this form to let us know, and we'll take care of it shortly.
Attachment
You need to be logged in to favorite.
Log In