Lyrics:
what?
Don't stop
So get back to work and sweat some more
The sun will sink and we'll get out the door
It's no good for man to work in cages
Hit
fucking merked by some lame
Heard he got it in the Range nigga Caine popped one in his brain
Over some-thang, took his watch and his chain
Country boys
textes
Silence bitch I hope you get messages
Coulda had me bitch and now you can't flex and uh
By the way I'm fucking ya exes ha
It's a hair flip
Check
que el está al lado mío (aha)
Por eso soy un sobreviviente (yeah)
W (It's 50)
50 Cent (aha)
Ferrari F50
Multimillo Records
Yo represento al barrio,
50 Cent ain't gonna kill ya nigga, don't get doubted
Got your gun, well don't leave home without it
The Memphis niggas is rowdy rowdy
Them
The Club Crunk, I'm'a Make 'Em Stomp
We Ain't Playin' want to Front, You Can Get That Ass Stomp
Do It Like Them Dirty South Boys, Do, And Stomp
Now Where
[50 Cent] + (Tony Yayo)
(Yeah, yeah) Yeah (G-UNIT!!)
My Polo on (check) my Dolce on (check)
It's my crew and Polow Da Don
I get that kitty ma
wanna act out
I just black out
And blow they motherfuckin back out
That's real
We the realest nigga
50 Cent and BIG my nigga
Don't try to act like you
Uh yea uh
This shit raw no cut uh
Uh uh uh foxes only lets get it
I'm by the city so I ain't got the drakes I brought all the switches with me
shit, it was ninety-nine cents (bag it)
Coppin' it, washin' it, 'bout to go and get some compliments
Passin' up on those moccasins someone else has been
And getting blood money
I try my best to stay focused
And hope the city love me
Pray it's not lust, cause if it is
I’d be death in a month
Lord forbid, for
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
bullshit you was serving it was all purpose
We all chipped in nigga and we all hurting
I gots to grind just like in eighty-nine
When a niggas 25 cent pieces
know I confuse myself trying to figure you out
Now tell me whats this really about
How your head get so full of doubt
It feels negative everything out
, fifty, you get
Fifty, fifty, fifty, you get
Fifty, fifty, fifty, he get
Fifty, fifty, fifty
It's nothing to know
You broke, got nothin' to show
I'm loco,
Niggas sent me large Marge
Remember I was dreaming 'bout kicking
It with the stars
Now I'm overseas in Bahamas getting a massage
Look out for the snakes
So
a perky bitch
Just really want her perky tits
Bitch you know I got it
I been flexing
I been Flexing in directions
Got them stressing
What’s
and you'll end up in your lawn
It's the protege of 50, inspired by Biggie
Burns more than Ziggy, them lil' niggaz dig me
I been stressed out lately, so I
blast up
Real BIG style watch the kid break it down
Check it: thou shalt not fuck with
Nor see Poppa
50 Cent, I'll break yo' punk ass off proper
There's
French frames in dreams
At the city I can't escape
50 Cent, Darkchild, So Plush
Girl, I wait for your lovin'
There is no rush, what
That's how Darkchild
just because you know
I got it it's because of me that
We're eating right up in this bitch don't
Stretch it by asking for a lawyer
And shit" That's
money or pride, then are you worth it?
Imma tell you, like 50 told me in 03
I don't know what you done heard, Hoe imma G
And you can't get a dollar out
cannot get a cent from me
You ain't put in on this road to riches no you trippin' now who got you gassed money
Pedal to medal 'cause I cannot settle for
state's forty cents
in New York City fifty cents elsewhere
It makes no goddamn sense at all
America's oldest continuously published daily piece of bullshit
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