Lyrics:
I show the gang and we highfivin' (gang)
(Offset, uh)
She give me face in the Wraith (face)
This semi, it shoot by the trey (grraow)
in New York City fifty cents elsewhere
It makes no goddamn sense at all
America's oldest continuously published daily piece of bullshit
Flavor Flav
to god and say Amen
I'm living the dream
And the city is giving me its respect
I work in the day, in the night
If you need reasons
Were clear, were clean,
like fluid
Get a 50 pack and we run right through it
Make dem boys tuck it in cause I'm all iced out
87-32 yeah, you know what I'm about
HA HA, you
"When's this
Ship I've heard so much about
Gonna get in?" It's
Ridiculous I'm sick of this
Shit driven witless
Can I get a witness? Can I get ten cents
the flow ADHD my mentally
No telling where we'll go 50 cent wings at the Applebee's
I'm tryna get rich and act broke that's my mentality
All of my songs be
And a brick all these red rubies
If he bigger go pick up a
Stick with a 50 clip and I ain’t 50 cent
Get you killed for like 50 packs
She assuming so she bet her
[50 Cent]
I hear a lotta talkin niggaz must be mad at BANKS
But there only one problem niggaz ain't as bad as BANKS
Nigga yous front you gon get shot
Look, mama, I made it (grrt)
Look, I remember the days
Same fit for a week straight
I used to eat fifty-cent cake
Now, it's Philippe's
It's
the fuck I gets down, me (G-Unit)
I'm a rider for real (50 Cent)
I keep my hands on the steel (Lloyd Banks)
I let it go me for real (Yayo)
Go ahead
in it, you're coming with me
Bench warmers, get no playing time
No sleeping til I cross the line, I'm running
With 99 miles left, on the Avis rental
with me
Bitch, it's big Cup
I put on for my city
Got twenty four bowls in the trap if you need it, come get me
Got plays they come by the fifty
Young
for sale or rent
Rooms to let, fifty cents
No phone, no pool, no pets
I ain't got no cigarettes
Two hours of pushin' broom
Buys a eight by
G-Unit, UTP
Hahahaha
G-Unit, UTP, G-Unit, UTP (yeah)
G-Unit, UTP, 50 Cent, get 'em, Buck
50 Cent, that's my name, man I ain't fuckin' playin'
night, to bright and early in the morning
She got that kind of loving you could be addicted to
I wont let it get to me, you just dont let it get to you
and hundreds
Fifty's and hundreds
We got them fifty's and hundreds
Four-four in my Prada
These bitches treat me like Obama
I'm tryna bend up her posture
Revolve
scented in Clive Christian
Number one baron spectacular
He knew fucking her would be dangerous fun
Tell her, tell her can I get my 75 cents?
Tell her, tell
(Mary)
M-J, 50 Cent, G-Unit
This is simple
I feel you understand
Another man
Can't quite
Love you girl (yeah a little louder) like I can
Your
a man by the name of Gray
Flour was fifty cents for a twenty four pound bag
Now it's a dollar and a half beside
Just like a skinnin' off a flea for
If these niggas be outside trust they gettin' hit
Keep it 100 with u pop your ass for 50 cent
I'm tryna shake up on da game remember 50 cent
All
some more in store
When I get to throw it on you
You got to come back for more
Toys and things that come by the dozen
That ain't nothin' but
thought I never would fail
Giving two cents, I don't need that from you
Like Michael Jackson, just beat it, like move
Get out the way and breathe in like
Moving bricks in bricks and mortar
Just to get cents, get cents
When shit gets harder, God feels so distant, distant
It's always gon' be some resistance,
[50 Cent talking]
[Hook]
You want beef wit me? take a number, and get in line
You bump heads wit me? I pop ya top off wit the nine
You mad at me?
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