Lyrics:
the lob
She eat dick corn on the cob
Did his bid got hit with fraud
Nigga diss know how that end
Save her name as 50 Cent lil bitch got hit by many men
Oh
I've got a
New Jay Z drops, 50 Cent drops
Busta Rhymes drops, so many drops
I dunno what tune to drop
Drop a Boy Better Know song
Then drop a bomb, bang
voltage of an eel
Truth that I reveal'll
Crush the amateurs who scream they keep it real
Caesar black down, hoodied up in fatigues
Part-time minor
Who's the guy who proved I write a bit
Loosened my appearance giving shits
Rude as I, is losing by a bit
But you and I aren't living alike, shit
Go
Call my boy Poppa see to put a slug in your vest
Check, I walk around the street with the black tec nine
By the waistline, kickin' the hype shit
So turn
real life, nigga you really borrow money from Ghost
All that lil' boy shit, yeah, it make it evident
Made millions in these streets, what the fuck is
the Russian cream is burning slow
Tell that boy don't fuck with me, somebody let that nigga know
Girl I want your heart, I ain't never gon' let it go
Time it
50 Cent uh lloyd Banks uh (yeah)
Young Buck uh (uhu) game nigga, G-Unit
It's easy man it's easy man
Ayo, I switch my hustle, no more dice games
high, hands up high
[VERSE 1: 50 CENT]
You wanna dance lets dance nigga ill take you to da prom
I'm armed tre pound in my palm I'm calm
Nigga my mamma
back
Supportin' every dream I got
You best believe, man, I dreamed a lot
Me and Rude Boy, I'm trying to tell ya,
Not a day goes by in life, we don't
to his mouth like a got damn dentist
So Treat me like a dog on a leash in the fence
Cause these N****s tryna buck ain’t worth 50 cent
I’m the type of n***a
bout money, I cannot relate
People say that they real, but I know they really fake
Haters gonna hate, boy stay up in your lane
See them better days, with
I'm bout to (come up)
Boy she cheesin
You did it real nice
She puttin on for the city
Ion take flights
See you drivin real steady
How can you lose I'm
homie
Yeah, I learned a lot from Kobe
81 shots, nine, 50 cents , finna take it out your pocket, homie
I ain't in this shit, I owned it
I'm still that 517,
Then Go And Cook Crack
Look At Me Now B****, You Don't Know How Rich
Lloyd Banks, Yayo, 50 Cent, Game N****, Or I'll Get
Solute A Soldier When You See
of bounds, nigga The big Zot, make a skinny nigga tickle
Breast feed that boy big clip, got a nipple Chips 50 Cent, but I got that boy two nickels
Like, damn,
prosper
Manoeuvre like I'm Bruce Lee, ya know I'm chucks
Been doing this since a young buck
Banging for fifty cent from a victim, while my gun talk
Blick gotta brand new 50
Tf said shootin ain't in me
Ima spook shoot till it's empty
Not gettin no money boy you lonely
Vandalize
Real street nigga
I
forget
That boy told you
Get, that, dirt off your shoulder
I probably owe it to y'all
Proud to be locked by the force
Tryin’ to hustle some things that
Go
Yeah, Its 50 cent, Young Buck
G-g-g-g-g-G-UNIT
We get the club jumpin' from beginning to the end
Go shawty, we back up in this bitch again
We
your ends
Prob'bly fuck your friends
High-post attitudes, real rude with fat asses
Think that the pussy is made out of gold
Try to control you by
cruise to Haiti
For fifty G's I get ten ki's and straight out weight it
I lock my area down - you can ask these boys
They know Wheezy got more white than
back)
Uh, so everyday I go hard
Real nigga and all my niggas real niggas
Came from making real figures (too much money) nothing less
No regrets (let's get
of time just a little bit (a little bit)
Pardon me yo I’m on some 50 Cent shit (a little bit)
The way you movin’ them thighs got me on the rise
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