Lyrics:
[Chorus: 50 Cent]
I'll, I'll be the shooter, I'll, I'll be the shooter
I'll, I'll use the pump, the taurus or the ruger
I'll pop somethin through ya,
(Mary)
M-J, 50 Cent, G-Unit
This is simple
I feel you understand
Another man
Can't quite
Love you girl (yeah a little louder) like I can
Your
time
Ain't goin' south, stick to the plan, get her last
Make her do the runnin', man, want this one right
Pray to God, when I see you, it's gon' be
will it stop
Jay and Dame ain't speaking
Game and 50 Cent beefing
Then Cease got Lil' Kim knocked
I'm hearing all this from the jail
While I'm
Counting by quarters
Counting by quarters
Now you start with a quarter, that's 25 cents
Add another quarter, that's 50 cents
Four quarters is
it, you know what I'm sayin'?
It's that gangsta shit
That's that gangsta shit (50 Cent, Trackmasters)
That gangsta shit
That's that gangsta shit
Enough to get you off the fence maybe
But 10 tracks in and you ain't feeling it
I guess it's just not for you
Or you're just damn crazy
Maybe both
Prolly
Rooms to let, fifty cents
No phone, no pool, no pets
I ain't got no cigarettes
Two hours of pushin' broom
Buys a eight by twelve four-bit room
If it aint bout some money you gone have to leave a message
You Don’t Understand? Lemme change up the topic
Cuz I aint 50 Cent This aint no 21
see me win, and they ain't seen me since
They don't Curtis see me rich, wouldn't give me 50 cent
Show no courtesy with these sticks, we let them bitches
Som' for the hood, ya know, yeah
Nuttin' crazy, little som' som'
Yeah, 50 Cent, G-Unit Radio
I sit and twist the lye just to get high
Niggas is
and they missed, bitch
Ain't had no luck
We gon' get back in the Corolla
556 hit a Tahoe, flip it over
He think it's a brick but I hit it with soda
Drywall
Lloyd Banks in the house, bad news
Tony Yayo in the house, bad news
50 cent in the house, bad news whenever 50 around its bad news
Tray pound's in
ain't simple
You a simp I ain't simple
You a simp
I'm a pimp
Bitches on my dick like a dimple
You a simp I ain't simple
You a simp I ain't simple
You
[Intro: LL Cool J (50 Cent)]
Queens!!!! (G-G-G-G-G-G Mix! G-G-G-G-G Remix! It's the Unit!!!)
T-T-T-T Todd Smith!! LL!!
[Chorus: LL Cool J (50 Cent
ain't gon let you get away
And you can ride this
Load it up pull it back then aim
Bust and release fifty flame in hang
Bullets slang like crack
for sale or rent
Rooms to let, fifty cents
No phone, no pool, no pets
I ain't got no cigarettes
Two hours of pushin' broom
Buys a eight by
back
We don't bet no lil shit We bet big bag
Ain't no internet shit Really into dat
Come gamble with us get a big bag
Roll da dice You can get fifty cent
who aint seen a royalty check
[Chorus - (50 Cent & Young Buck)]
Hate it or love it the underdog's on top
And I'm gonna shine homie until my heart stop
before
It wasn't like this before
50 Cent, I'm makin hit's now
Don't try an act like you ain't heard
I'm the shit now some bitches changed
'cause they
shit, it was ninety-nine cents (bag it)
Coppin' it, washin' it, 'bout to go and get some compliments
Passin' up on those moccasins someone else has been
to save it
When you older I explain it
These niggas ain't really wavy
They copy and follow trends
I ain't have 50 cent
Now I'm hated by many men
Hot boxes
[50 Cent]
Yeah! 50 Cent.. Lloyd Banks.. Young Buck...
G G G G G-Unit! Haha!
[Young Buc]
Vacate your home I come to brake your bones
Americas
of valor, for the
entrance to this cave is guarded by a creature so foul, so cruel
that no man yet has fought with it and lived! Bones of four fifty
men lie
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