Lyrics:
Two strikes on my record and a scared mind
[master p]
So I'm crazy, drive by miss daisy
Sellin' dope to all these motherfuckers and killin' babies
I
was rated P.G.
Run, I will not give up, no, quick flag the car down
Take me to, Ghost here they come now!
Er! Pull off quick, back up, hit the bitch,
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
know why cause I was
Frivolous but now I’m a saver
I’m a hustler by nature
I can sell bread to a baker
Sell a fence to my next door neighbour
I wanna buy
I wish that we could go back to the old days
Straight but for them Benjis, she go both ways
Ain't no 50-50, need the whole thing
If you fuck with me,
murder a mixtape (chea)
Pollution I smell that in the breeze
But let's try not to get mad at the trees
Tell 'em all not to get mad at the leaves
Let's get
Straight up, and your haircut game is fucked up
I'm toe-tyin' them niggas, them niggas are dudun-dudun, nigga
Straight up, yo that nigga 50 Cent?
That's
You lost your common sense for a buck and fifty cents
But full of confidence so high I don't know why
I, I don't know and I don't, I don't care
around and bust his tater
She say she ain't suckin' dick, bye bitch I'll see you later
Went to the mall and spent the 50 ball, I'm dyin' by this paper
I
[Slim Thug][Hook: x 2]
When I hit the club all the girls show me love
While I'm at the bar, got drank by the jug
In the v.i.p with the chicks
[Slim Thug][Hook: x 2]
When I hit the club all the girls show me love
While I'm at the bar, got drank by the jug
In the v.i.p with the chicks
cracker a day (what? Oh shit)
Girl, well, I heard the bitch was married to Tim
And started fucking with Trina
Well, I heard the bitch got hit by three
cracker a day (what? Oh shit)
Girl, well, I heard the bitch was married to Tim
And started fucking with Trina
Well, I heard the bitch got hit by three
lost a friend tonight
Jam Master Jay, rest in peace
I send my love to his family, 50 Cent y'all
I stay gangsta'd up
Niggas ain't got shit on me
And I
list
The other artists I'll keep em' all restless
I don't french kiss, unless it's 50 Cent
Vivica we can share him like the president
Tabloids I don't
glitch
(baow, baow, baow)
50 Cent aka the magic stick (grrah)
All black, one gunman
John Wick, that's a bad man
All black, one gunman john Wick (baow)
All
thug will do
Hit Branson, get a fifty jug or two
Y'all throwin' on them gritty mugs for who?
Like y'all don't know what fifty slugs will do
Hatin' I
In that pussy deep, put that shit to sleep, R.I.P.
I'm not feeling you if you not digging me, fuck you mean
I could hit 'em both, I could hit
by 11 bout 400 briccas
Hop on the freeway
Throw that 50 cent in yeah
Make that shit look good
Ashley from the wood yeah
Rental from Abdul
Swear that
Nobody likes me
Nobody likes me, but that's okay
'Cause I don't like y'all anyway
Man, I don't like y'all anyway
Fuck all y'all (all y'all)
I
And she knows that I know better
But I don't meaning to be doing these things To upset her
It's whatever
Cause I know if you stick by me
Then maybe
draws and then I zoomed outta there
'cause I got my laws, I'ma stay strong to myself
And I thought about y'all, that's why I ball by myself
I don't need
carry the 44, he rollin' wit 50 Cent
Untold the 50 gallons rock it like 50 Cent
Yea, bussin' at the sky, fuck it I'm high
So big one hit you, your
Smell the hate a mile away
You fake these n****s dank
Packing up Dope by the bag
AOD be potent 49 my n****s ape
I put my foot at yo nape
Bully rappers
.jpg "Smell The Roses")
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