Lyrics:
put one inside his contact lens
Stay locked in like chains 4L know I'm standing on bizz
Death wished on me by many men
But I ain't 50 cent feel like
addicted to money
Look at your boy
(Boy)
Got 50 thousand in this mouth
(Mouth)
Look at your boy
(Boy)
I'm fixin' to buy a way bigger house
I'm
the store and we both get 50 cent cakes
You heard what I said in that new shit I say
If you can't break bread he fake
I had one more buck on my plate
It was
on my 50 cent shit get the fucking strap aye
Im gon be famous they gon know my name
Cause bitch ima star ima star ima star
Ima ball ima ball ima ball
Im
Verse 1:
I got this coffee pot of white soap
Stuck my hanger down the center
When I entered I spent it cause it was like dope
But on the real-a he
And after we worked up a sweat and got loose
We bought a Hero and a fifty cent juice
Word yo
Uneek, Uneek, remember back in the day?
Yo, let's Ice
a rude gyal
Don't do it, stop fuckin' up your mental
(Okay) it is on go, it's up by my slums
Real ass bitches and they all down to ride
Hanna Montana, it's
Nah, me never bad for me bad
But know what happens when you raised in North West, rude boy
WSTRN season
Nah, we don't need a reason
That's just
getting this shine[00:23.30]I can't change up[00:25.17]Boy I got family ties[00:27.00]You not gang, no[00:28.80]No you can't get in this ride[00:30.66]You
Here comes that guy in his stripped down Model A
And he says, ?Gimme 50 cents worth of regular
Check my oil too, if you don't mind
Put some air in my
99 cents
Bag it, poppin' it, washin' it, 'bout to go and get some compliments
Passing up on those moccasins someone else has been walking in
Bummy
that rude boy, bad boy, comin from the ville
Step to the Boot Camp, somebody get killed by me
The T-O-P, D-O-G, or my nigga Mr. S-T-R-A-N-G
Some of ya
got soul
Niggas coming home from doing wild time
Talkin bout P - "Yo P I could rhyme"
50 Cent did it I could do the shit too
But you not 50, he
the road with 50 cent
Kidd you still not rich?
But I'mma serve these dimes 'til
I pit that brick
If my life was a disc I'd skip that shit?
Nigga, roaches
the road with 50 cent
Kidd you still not rich?
But I'mma serve these dimes 'til
I hit that brick
If my life was a disc I'd skip that shit?
Nigga, roaches
Rude gyal whine slow.
Control ya body Baby go low
You aint gotta worry who's watching no
Its me and you baby go low and i'll
making up my own bed this week one dollar
For going to the store fifty cents
And playing with little brother while you went shopping twenty five cents
Yeah
I got a friend, he's a real sad boy
His girlfriend left him for a real bad boy
Told him, "That's a sad story
Pour up this 40
I'ma get a shorty
blue coupe
Big rocks in the stone boy you know what we do
Remember them days when we ain't had no food
50 cent cake for just me and my crew
My mother
through, representin' Boot Camp Clik
In the night, who roll tight
I be that rude boy, bad boy, comin' from the ville
Step to the Boot Camp, somebody get
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
wanna get murked by the boy
My shit is military
Y'all's is like a nursery toy
It's hurtin' you boys (BLRATT)
My team ain't even hungry, we famished
I
I'm a rude boy
Somebody go tell Rihanna to call me
I wanna turn up & then have a party
To the Ozarks but I am not Marty
Ask me if I wanna hang I say
lovin' it
Carve a smile on his face now what's funny bitch
I laugh at my opps we ain't duckin' shit
I put one in his face like he 50 cent
I knock out all
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