Lyrics:
Who told you I'm trying to linky? Shit's getting risky
Opps found my 50
Up in Houston we get dope Knock his ass with a lethal blow
Split it 50-50 This
hating my nigga
Packing the bands wow
Get it my dwag
Pick up the cent wow
You can't hating my nigga
Pick up the cent
Yeah
Pick up the cent
Pick up
what helps to get me by
'Cause I'm in Hell
This is my goodbye, farewell
This relationship is all that it's cracked up to be
Never lack lust in that
a dollar, now you know
Keep on adding quarters, how high can you go?
25 cents, 50 cents, 75 cents, one dollar
Counting by quarters
Counting by quarters
Hot 97 blazing hip hop and R&B you now
Tuned into G-Unit radio 50 Cent, Lloyd Banks
Tony Yayo
It's like everywhere I look
And everywhere I go
I
coffins
Whenever I'm in the booth and I get exhausted
I think what if Marie Baker got that abortion?
I love you ma
Hate it or love it, the underdog's
pounds
I ain't from a softy town
Niggas'll break your bones, crack your faith
Call the doctor, let him put it back in place
Ha ha ha, 50 Cent yeah what
got 50 Cent I got G-Uni we up in this bitch
With Obie Trice
So watch what you say 'fore you call our names you say one more thing
It won't be nice
Here
Cent in the club
You know it ain't my time to call it a day
I wanna crack on and I wanna be paid
But it's 'bout time you remember the name
Ayy, ayy
lived (Hey)
All I know is go trying get rich (Rich)
Trying make a dollar outta 50 cent (Do It)
You ain't never did it how a nigga did (Fuck Naw)
You ain't
fifty
Split the check split the bill I need money
Fifty Fifty
I'm fifty fifty
You thought it was yours but you wanna split it with me
Cut my dog in half
cabinet
I thank the Lord for everything He did, I'm like, "Inshallah"
He might die trying to get rich, go by the name of the Q-Ball
Stacked everything
[50 Cent-talking]
I don't even know how to explain it, you know?
You know from time to time she's on my mind you know
You know what I mean she's my
of people, marching up the avenue
Doin? what they gotta do, just to get by
I'm living in the land of plenty and many
But I'm damn sure poor and I don't
to save it
When you older I explain it
These niggas ain't really wavy
They copy and follow trends
I ain't have 50 cent
Now I'm hated by many men
Hot boxes
Ballin' like I'm 'Melo, free my brother, filthy cocaine
Fuck the rap shit, on another level, trappin' in the dope game
50 Cent, not talkin' Power, got
Oh yeah, I got the perfect song for the kids to sing
And all my people that's
Drug dealin' just to get by
Stackin' money 'til it get sky high
to get popped by a cop?
Who the next n**** in the hood to get shot?
I hope it ain't me, so I'm strapped up in bulletproof
N**** on my stomach see -
The Hustle don't stop, Hustle don't quit
Got a "Hustlers Ambition", like, 50 Cent
Want the, "Finer Things", in this, life I live
So I'll, grind til I
Banks, 50 Cent
[Lloyd Banks]
[Verse One]
Look Mommy, we can creep through the ghetto with ya, feet and stiletto take a, cartlan party is when ya sneak in
freestyle for free
I gave em a break, flew over seas
But it's kinda hard to get homie-sick when there's blue in the trees
Sit back and try to play your
Green Lantern (Green Lantern)
The infiltration
We coming, yeah
I got 50 Cent, I got G-Unit (uh-huh)
D-Twizzy in this bitch (haha), with Obie Trice
or Lacey
It's 50 Cent and Shady, the worst, baby
You put your hands on my peoples I'll react crazy
Put a hole through your front and your back, maybe
But
Dr. Dre says crunk, you will get it crunk
Get it crunk (crunk, crunk, crunk)
And when 50 Cent says jump, you get on one foot and
Jump (jump, jump,
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