Lyrics:
gentleman grew up and turned rude
Looking at them steady hating they mad that my flows crude
Grew up to screw up by ludacris on repeat after school
I had some
the hood and get
Shot down in cold blood
Riding through Compton in the Aston thinking
Bout my nigga 4cent getting
Shot down in cold blood
What if that was
Yeah I said the real me
All this feeding of these feelings
Like it's 50/50
Vision 2020
Sipping Henny feeling ever ready
Girl this journey always
they get is 50 cent franks
And papayas, from the village to the tele
Time to kill it on your belly no question
I got more black chicks between my
they get is 50 cent franks
And papayas, from the village to the tele
Time to kill it on your belly no question
I got more black chicks between my
about ripping the mic with my own sound
With my own sound, so I tried to write rhymes
Something' like them, my boys said,
"That ain't you Ice, that
why'all and make it hot
[Chorus]
New York, Chicago, Atlanta, L.A.
Miami crazy like yippie-i-yae
Rude boys in the club smokin' on hay
Smoke the (?)
body, everybody body)
New York, Chicago, Atlanta, L.A.
Miami crazy like yippie-I-yae
Rude boys in the club smokin' on hay
Smoke the choker weed, Cali
What up to State Prop the crew, were they not there?
The moment that they heard it the verdict
When it was declared, ya boy had to sit a year
Did they
sitting poolside looking real cool
With a Grape flavored 50 cent juice
Made for one, the corner store lady gimme two
Nigga thats love, thats what I live
jacking that Beastyle
But this one feeling right
Beast
This year personal
Sike
All years fucking personal
I can just only put in fifty cents
Cause the other
(Don)
Look, if I peel out, I squeeze
I hype and go beast, you boys is hypebeasts (beasts)
You boys light, I move at lightspeed
So rude that hurricanes
on real note is he?
Is like I know you forever like we went to school
I try and play it cool but baby get rude
We can go anywhere just me and you
Drinking
Hey, yeah, Thugger
Aye, I'm just gonna go all the way street with it, you know what I'm saying?
'Cause I got a real street nigga with me, you know
(Woo) , came up off them Snack Packs
50-cent for Shastas
Itchy blop' up in the backpack
Little Caesar Hot-N-Ready box
We had to have that
Made us heavy
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
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
I'll give you a mouthful
You be a breath of fresh air like incense
And I just want a little bit, word to 50 Cent
But if you're down with all them
and real phony
Hong Kong dollar, Indian cents
English pounds and Eskimo pence
You lot, what?
Don't stop, give it all you got
You lot, what?
Don't
boogaloo
Gets you up and gets you out
But how long can you keep it up?
Gimme Honda, Gimme Sony
So cheap and real phony
Hong Kong dollars and Indian
boogaloo
Gets you up and gets you out
But how long can you keep it up?
Gimme Honda, Gimme Sony
So cheap and real phony
Hong Kong dollars and Indian
and real phony
Hong Kong dollar, Indian cents
English pounds and Eskimo pence
You lot, what?
Don't stop, give it all you got
You lot, what?
Don't
that boogaloo
Gets you up and gets you out
But how long can you keep it up?
Gimme Honda, Gimme Sony
So cheap and real phony
Hong Kong dollars
Turn on my microphone you get Me
Hey ee
I drop the shirt and I wear knicker
I smoking Gas like a Cylinder
I grip the 50 like Vivica
Ride deadly
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