Lyrics:
the devil's intentions
Cursed by Satan and blessed by God
Live and let die, rep thy block
Niggers better gimme the respect I want
There’s no love for me in
Think it's a game 'til them thangs come out
I bang out 'til your brains hang out
'Cause you're fuckin with a gangsta nigga, a gangsta nigga
Think
Until your free
Doubling my reps
To avoid injury
Like how could it be
I tell the vultures
Man I'm ready with a full clip
Barret fifty Cal
Never
I'm true to all the shit that I done, check the clip in my gun
Respect the click that I'm from, or get lifted and stunned
Dunn, you just a small fry,
The day you left, I wonder where you went
And I am the man, like 50 cent
I love her freshest hair, like a peppermint
M.I.A
M.I.A
M.I.A
Baby, why don't you
back to me bae you gone for so long[02:47.72]Like why the fuck you never hit me back when I hit your phone?[02:50.64]I say "bae I was just so busy I
raps
50 Cent raps I'd rather let
Eminem call me 50 niggas
Than break bread wit a
Rich nigga readin scripture
By the way, if you're Aryan
Nation - FUCK
I go jog at night, yeah, call it a mall run
You know what I did last night, 'cause I gave her all ones
You niggas in trouble, rock chains by
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"
fifty cents up since sixteen
Got a rep on the up and up on a big streak
Things heating up in this bitch or is it just me
2019 problems, since solved now
Nigga the work a 9 say its 10
Scribble on the check whit a pen
Right now im wearing Dior but you know I rock louie linen
50cent glass jaw
Shoot his chin
Reppin it like you steppin,
Rep yo street,
Just because you pistol toting thuggin that don’t mean you sleep,
Just because you got eyes lil nikka that
you rep ain't prepped to step, I peeped the pudding clearly and I see the (PROOF!)
What I'm smoking on cost like an arm and a leg,
No food on yo plate
as a light tan
With plastic faces and rubber hands
Fuck fame, I shoot a hole in a 50 cent piece to test my aim
How dare you call the Gods in vain
Not
as a light tan
With plastic faces and rubber hands
Fuck fame, I shoot a hole in a 50 cent piece to test my aim
How dare you call the Gods in vain
Not
[dat nigga daz]
5, 10, 15, 20, 25, 30, 35, 40, 45, 50, 55, 60, 65, 70, 75, 80, 85, 90, 95,
100, ready or not baby, here I come
Dat nigga daz struck
a minute in.
Soon as you think shit die down we spin again. Pistol 50 cent, he be like many many many men..
Im in a league of my fucking own so don’t compare
not? That's a start
They could push their reps quicker, kill a well known nigga
And if you say you're going to kill me, should I blast you first?
a vest)
Okay
I rep the town harder than any of you niggaz
Where ever I stand my bills the same punk
And you got the nerve to tell me
Come gangsta
and never got up
The neighborhood paralyzed, crack drive-bys
It's evident we hurt, you ignored our cry
On the outside the ghetto just another mindstate
wet like I’m up in a tub
Lil nigga working I been with the shits
Get hit with clip so you better not miss
Fuck what you saying don’t care if you diss
don't show
I be putting Jersey on like my first name Joe
It's cute how you rep, claiming you the best
But take it from a vet with real fans out west
at mine
And you got a stash but look at mine
And you got a strap but look at mine, and this clip if I shoot hit em fifty times
We both got a Glock but my
Imagine full glock clips
I hold a glass of Remy Martin
Gettin' milks by the carton
Extortin' the light weights for thinkin' they important
The night pays
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