Lyrics:
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
Making somethin' outta nothing
Because everybody fifty cents
From a quarter
Where I come from
Yeah
The streets ain't timid
But I feel at home in it
stars made by cinnamon
I feel like 50 Cent, I'm hated, yes, by many men
She look me dead up in my eyes, baby, do you love
Him, or me (or me)
Not one
is bent
Count up every cent
You want money
It get honey
Don't get bitchy
That's suspicious
I wanna do what I wanna do
But ma's rent don't get paid by
sick it make you vomit
Hand jobs Lorena Bobbitt
Mutha fuckas
They call me lunatic
Highlight it and underline
Dynamite in every line
Blow apart them
n black on its on!
Wassup? This the kid 50 Cent man
Its going down, ya heard me?
Niggas got me mad, ya talk
Ya niggas got me all fucked up
I'm finna
niggaz are hard plus we all crazy
Wishing I can be a peaceful man and, hoping that the Lord save me
Fuck a nigga named 50 Cent, you nothing but change
to represent My fitted New York like 50 cent You got 50 cent, 125 bucks for a half 50 for a whole gram Tinkerbell rockin' the speedboat I got what you need bro,
wishing death on me but bitch I am not 50 cent
Many men think I'm spinning on em' like a ceiling fan
Paranoid, how the fuck you know I'm not gon' air it boy
hit me since
They ain’t hit me since
It just made me colder
Got a ni**a tense
All this power and i'm suited like I'm 50 cent
I stand behind this
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
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
Yeah, this the Shady Records mixtape (yeah)
Invasion, mixed by the Evil Genius (50 Cent, Lloyd Banks, Tony Yayo)
G-Unit
This rap shit plays
gotta die, I'd rather homicide
I ain't have fifty cent when my grandmama died
Now I'm goin' back to Cali with my Jacob on, see how time fly?
Hate it
jajaja
T-pain
Victor "el nasi", "nesty"
W yandel
En conexión con 50 cent
Y todavía se atreven decir que son los numero uno jajaja
Seguimos
I gotta die, I'd rather homicide
I ain't have 50 Cent when my grandmama died
Now I'm goin' back to Cali with my Jacob on
See how time fly?
Hate
Allah just, I lay it for the mix tapes
Quick to quake a label-mate
The sound came outta rusted crate
Surrounded by cobwebs
Beat smooth enough
And if ya money right and you hold it down
Then hell yea I can find you a key
And really I ain't where I wanna be
I'm tryna push 50 P's by the week
Invest
in line, get your tickets, I hope you will attend
It'll only cost you fifty cents to see
What life has done to those like you and me
See the man
in line, get your tickets, I hope you will attend
It'll only cost you fifty cents to see
What life has done to those like you and me
See the man
the streets where the city don't sleep
Brooklyn East New York fucka watch where you walk
Buck fifty for ya lips fucka watch how you talk
Got the goons on deck
in holy water and take lighting showers
Use Posiedons wife blouses as a towel and by now ya
Wondering just how the fuck I do just what I do...
50
I had 50 cents
Onna bag of chips
Had to spend the shit
I'm legit
I get money quick
We buy everything
Everybody want a couple cents when I'm coming in
bird on me
Nothin' to be specific
Ice, ice, ice like I jumped in the Pacific
Money, money, money
Man that shit comin' in digit's
I got 50 cents on me
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