Lyrics:
Pittsburgh sound
And Imma always hold pittsburgh down
Its Wiz Khalifa man
You cant tell by now
Pittsburgh Imma swell my town
That steel city damn
Roll
station in Jamaica
Queens zach Fink Ny1 50 cent:
It's the big 10, it's been 10 years since 50
Cent is the future
I'm tired as a motherfucker
What you want
Yeah what, what
Back up on the remix, let me flip this
beat be hitting hard, it might just leave ‘em with slipped disk Penning every lyric, recorded
in Hollywood cause I remember when I had 50 Cent, up In Da Club
All my life I knew I was major, I don't need no major
I don't even write rhymes, I
me to film it
Ballin', ballin', like I play for New England
Spend it, spend it, spend a stack every minute
That's fifty, one hundred, I see no
on 'em)
It's fifty-two cards in the deck, I played the ones they gave me
Fifty-three, I'm fifth thirds, I played the bank so crazy
Fifty-four nights
Yeah oouuu yeah yeah yeah
Ima boss I go get it by any means yeah
I guarantee that my niggaz is gone eat yeah
Dirty money but you know we whippin'
stalk me
Got a big dick in your bitch clit
When I flip this I got more work than a Olympic gymnast
Bust it, I cut the mustard, on any track
Milkier
dick in your bitch clit
When I flip this I got more work than a Olympic gymnast
Bust it, I cut the mustard, on any track
Milkier than Similac when I'm
on the floor
In the club, 1942 same size on my shoe
13 plus 9 just turned 22 i guess its cool
Paid for school i caught 50 bodies or its cents you make the call i
Oh, Oh, Oh gGGG G-Unit
Yeah it's 50 Cent
And Lloyd Banks and Tony Yayo
Nigga (ha, ha) you got to love it
New York City
I've been doing my own thing
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
Remix,
We gotta lotta money,
Come on we didn't have to hurt em' like
Dis 50, well anyway, g-unit!
I got money in the bank (yea)
Shawty what
'bout that!
Want to tell that D's yeah, I doubt that!
I put the barrel in tha 5th in ya mouth
Jack! 50 Cent!
I said I'm 'bout it, 'bout
It! - I'm
screaming rent, leaving my pockets full of lint
Man, it's no joke just to work to be broke
With no dough just to go back to work
While my back still hurt from
This little song that I'm singin' about
People, you know it's true
If you black and gotta work for a livin'
Now, this is what they will say to you
years away from when they say
The world's expected to end
And I ain't even begin
That's more ironic than a bum asking
For 50 Cent from "Many Men", one
Intro: (50 Cent)
(Two street kids now men, its sad it had to end this way, But before i go into that...lets start from the begining....)
Intro: (50
really want this for sure
Work work work 4 it
Show me something I never seen b4
Work work 4 it
Work work 4 it
Big Capricorn energy
You know it's me
By
that white girl call it heather
My father said come on son you can do better
Ugh, yea I can do better
Remix the work and sell em for Margiela's
Dirty Dan
(Oh, the wine cooler)
Johnny Ryall is the bum on my stoop
I gave him fifty cents to buy some soup
He knows the time with the fresh Gucci watch
weighs eighteen stone
(That's two hundreds fifty six pounds)
I don't mind her fat but,
It's not only that but,
She's cockeyed and muscle-bound, Molly
can't start faking s** now
The hottest in the south
I'm tryna blow up just like 50 cent
Get rich or ima die tryna do this s**
It's one hell of a life
degrees
When I hit the block I make
Them fiends hit they knees
Fifty-two bitches and they know
To work that stove
Trap in? Mall I still know to work that
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