Lyrics:
And Obie's comin', D-Twizzy's comin'
You're sick to your stomach (ugh)
Fifty percent of it's 50 Cent
The other 50 percent of it's whose color of skin it is
wishing death on me but bitch I am not 50 cent
Many men think I'm spinning on em' like a ceiling fan
Paranoid, how the fuck you know I'm not gon' air it boy
taking nine shots 50 Cent
Ooh Yeah
Diamonds on me dancing Janet Jackson
I really got them packs in to make it happen
I prolly put some food on one of you
around the world
I've meet all kinds of girls
Girl you look like someone I done fucked on tour
[50 Cent (Singing)]
(Now everythings changed) I'm rich
die trying
By any means like 50 Cent
Try to rob me he a idiot
Smoke a big nigga on some skinny shit
Hop out the car or stay in that bitch
Either way do
Ya'll niggas want to get high, well we gonna get high then
This shit right here is drugs, ya'll for sell baby
50 Cent uh, take it how you want
sense, man
If it don't make dollars
It don't make cents, man
I'm talkin' 'bout stacks, man, racks, man
Haha yeah, just let me get fifty 20s
Know what I'm
right
In the club stay crunk right
Drama pop it pop the trunk
Get the punk right, ride
I am did, most incredible
I ain't disrespect, and just spittin' my
angry with a passion
So please just accept it ain't happening and go back to your running's
'Cause you might get yourself in trouble one of these days
angry with a passion
So please just accept it ain't happening and go back to your running's
'Cause you might get yourself in trouble one of these days
her again
Damn, he gon' give it to you
No, I need 75 cents out of you i got you
Ooh, lemme see that, bro i want it outta her
What you need to do, is you
fifty cent, in a bad predicament
The gon' bust your head by them dead green presidents
Wipin' down the evidence, shooters at my residence
All this
Uh, yeah, G-Unit, uh, yeah 50 Cent, uh, yo
Timbaland sounds so good
But I might not be ready i don't know
If I spend a 100 grand on the beat
Then we
and you doin' me
I ain't talkin 'bout a seventy thirty, no way, no way
Or a sixty forty, uh, uh, uh, uh
Talkin 'bout a fifty fifty, when the room is empty
I broke a dollar down the gutter (?) the dime, quarter, penny, nickel
Flipped the 25 to 50 cent, now watch the b**** triple
Game simple, ya here
They bite piranhas and stung by the jellyfish
These ain't no All-Stars, bitch, these is Vetements
Party time excellent, pardon my excellence
Pardon my
or die tryin like 50 cent
Yea cause it's like that foreal
Nigga hustle everyday
Cause I gotta pay the bills mane
Streets called said they need that hot
Kelly's sheets
(Piss)
But shit, it was ninety-nine cents! (Bag it) Coppin' it, washin' it
'Bout to go and get some compliments
Passin' up on those
the car
And we gone take it there
But keep it simple
Dont you touch that window
Dont you let out my indo
I'm trynna make it clear hoe
Keep it simple keep it
Diamond chain
Rocks so sharp they cut a wrist
I like a bitch who give me head and ain’t afraid to cut a bitch
Bitch I need the Guap
By the Guap I mean
body we letting it ventilate
(Ventilate ventilate)
Months gone by and this shit ain't been the same
Pushed up on him he thinking this shit a game
(Shit
in New York City fifty cents elsewhere
It makes no goddamn sense at all
America's oldest continuously published daily piece of bullshit
Flavor Flav
yall still local im in a million dollar studio laying my vocals nigga.
[50 cent]
Still in tha projects nigga, you aint goin nowhere, u gonna be in
streets ain't going to bring me back
Now could it be the southside big baller
Bolo rock slanger stones done got slaughtered-damn
I'm going up on my whole
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