Lyrics:
rhyme?
Is a fuckin porcupine half swine?
No time to make up your mind, you wanna run or die?
Clip you while you're running by, trip you up from behind
me, crazy
So I live by two words, "Fuck you, pay me"
Screaming, "Jesus, save me"
You know how the game be, I can't let 'em change me
'Cause
gonna find them back in Amsterdam
You might as well just set a plan
So before the show went and I'm standing there
Waiting for 50 Cent to come out I had
a bigger rep
The trigger finger strapped
I wanna see another nigga step
I play the cards
Lost by your dingy Mista Gilligan
The mighty mad writer's
Right now with the situation gettin' better
So I'm doin' you things, holla
Yeah, 50 Cent, uh huh, check me outt
Now piece by piece we put it all
the streets, and most of dem die by the chrome
Ay give the little nigga his ball back
Game Boyz, put a clip in a .45, cock back
Jeezy show a nigga where
feeling' windy
No matter, where the fuck I'm at I rep my city
Please, I'm well protected all my soldiers at ease
So try me bitch,
You get shot like I'm
T-R-E-N-T-O-N, this tha town that i represent, T-R-E-N-T-O-N, this
Tha town that i was bornnn in, T-R-E-N-T-O-N, exit 7 is where you'll
Find me,
fuckin’ with me and be a casualty
You think a nigga bullshittin
Then come and see
When it all goes down, and the clips run out
I bet I make history i bet I
just ain’t got no place to put it
But the proof is in the pudding
And the cash is in the ceiling
Made 50 racks at 15
Now can you relate to that
mmh
Pour up the 50 shields, I'ma go crazy
You don't know 90s still, you be cranking 180s
You know she sold her soul, onlyfans app
Told her you would
the clip
My niggas riding
He right there beside me been here since a jit
We been with the shits
I just want me some Ms
Get rich or die trying like i'm 50
of OG. Yeah, I go berserk. That's three fifty, twelve hundred, or fifty. For what it's worth. Yo, for what it's worth you want a quarter ounce. Ninety nine
Whip it up
Whip it up
Whip it up
Nasty!
Cook it up
Cook it up
Cook it up
Classy!
I just do too much
I'm just getting rich
50 in the trunk
50
like you kin to me!
Act like yeen know me when ian have shit bitch i cant act like i missed you
Had that baby by yo self yeen call me in jail bitch ian
I said don't talk shit
Fifty on my head, that's kinda cheap, that's barely opp shit
But I load the clip because you left me with no option
Funny how
out your dress
In the club hangin round the bar to see what you can get
She got a Gucci bag but she ain't got a cent
But she just a hooch man out here
body's stiff
By the same niggas you used to party with
Hands up shorty when you party with me, we goin' way past quarter to three (I said Hands Up!)
stomp along, catch a lil' Holy
Ghost, and if you ain't feelin' good God willin, By
The end of this record He gon' change all that, Ayo
Lorenz you
fuck your ears like a statutory rape
Murderous nigga on the gangsta tip
So MC Ant cover me while I reload the motherfuckin' clip
And by the way if
paying him a dollar an hour
And they was paying me fifty cent
They said, "if you was white, should be all right"
"If you was brown, stick around"
Travelling 50 miles just to see her in the flesh
Now the constant daily reminder of nothing that I can do
Hope you're in a better place and you'll have your
want my money coming in racks
Fifty, hunnids, got them in stacks
We outside in the field we strap
In the ocean swimming with sharks
Tell me what you know
start, the car it zooms, see you soon
Hit a left, yeah we ran through, gotta bad rep
Like I'm Cantu, ain't playing dead fool
Roadblock, ran over a coon,
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