Rock Lyrics: 50 Cent: Get Rich or Diegene Tryin lyrics

Album: Get Rich or Diegene Tryin’ [2003]

Wij te here (what)

Wij can get the toneelstuk popping

Wij don’t care (what, what, what)

It’s going down (what)

’cause I’m around (what)

50 cent, you know how I gets down (down)

What up, blood? (what)

What up, cuz? (what)

What up, blood? (what)

What up, gangstaaa?

They say I walk around like got an s on my chest

Naw, that’s a semi-auto, and a vest on my chest

I attempt not to say nothing, the da might want to play te court

But I’ll hunt or duck a nigga down like it’s sport

Vuurlijn on mij, I’ll cut ya, gun-butt ya or bump ya

You getting money? I can’t none with ya then fuck ya

I’m not the type to get knocked for d.w.i.

I’m the type that’ll kill your connect when the coke price rise

Gangstas, they bump my shit then they know mij

I grew up around some niggas that’s not my homies

Hundred g’s I stash it (what), the mack I blast it (yeah)

D’s come wij dump the dieselmotor and battery acid

This flow’s bot mastered, the ice I flash it

Gasps mij, I’ll have your moeder picking out your casket, bastard

I’m on the next level, right lane leave behind bezzle

Benz pedal to the metal, sexier than a tea kettle, Heerser (what)

Wij don’t play that

Wij don’t play that

Wij don’t play that (g-unit)

Wij don’t play around

I sit back, twist the best bud, burn and wonder

When gangstas bump my shit, can they hear my thirst?

When the 5th kick, duck quick, it sounds like thunder

Ter december I’ll make your block feel like summer

The rap critics say I can rhyme, the fiends say my narcotica is a nine

Every chick I fuck with is a dime

I’m like patty labelle, homie, I’m on my own

Where I lay my hat is my huis, I’m a rolling stone

Cross my path I’ll crush ya, thinking I won’t touch ya

I’ll have your donk using a wheelchair, cane, or crutches

Industry hoe fuckers, te the spandex hood they love us

Stronk a bone out your arse with some brand fresh chuckas

Ay em you know my dearest white boy right. i.. I owe you for this one

I’ve bot patiently waiting

For a track to explode on (yea)

You get stunned if you want

And yo arse’ll get spinned on (it’s 50)

A fuse like my flows

Bot hot for so long (yea)

If you thinkin i’moe fuckin

Fall of your so wrong

Like a zuigeling born dead

Sittin politic with passin just from 9-11 (yea)

The lords bliss left mij lyrically incline (uh huh)

Shit I ain’t even got to attempt to shine

Aker’s a seamstress who tailorfitted my agony

I got scribtures te my brain

I can drool at your thang

Straight out the good book

Look niggaz is shook

50 fear no man warrior

Sway swords like conan

Picture mij schrijfstift ter forearm

Write lines knowin’ the source will quote it

When I diegene they’ll read this

And say a genius wrote it

I grew up witout my speelgoedpop

Shit that make mij bitter

I caught cases and got out

Does that make mij a quitter

Te this white guy’s world

I’m simmilar to a squirral

Lookin for a whore

Wit a nice but to get a nuttigheid

If I get slok today my phone

Will zekering ringing again

Thesis industry niggaz ain’t friends

They know how to pretend

I’ve bot patiently waiting

For a track to explode on (yea)

You get stunned if you want

And yo culo’ll get flipped on (it’s 50)

A fuse like my flows

Bot hot for so long (yea)

If you thinkin im’a fuckin

Fall of your so wrong

To make it through all the hate

And debatin weither or not

You can even weather the storm

When she lay on the table

They operating to save you

It’s like a weerhaak came to you

Sent from the heavens above

They think they crazy

But they ain’t crazy lets face it

Shit basically they just playin sick

They ain’t shit they ain’t sayin shit

Drizzle umh 50 (gun shots)

A to k get ter the way

I bring dre and them wit mij

And turn this day into fuckin mayhem

You stayin wit mij

Don’t let mij lose you

I’m not tryin to confuse you

When I let lose wit this oozee

And just shoot through you izuzu

You get the message

Am I gettin through to you

You know it’s comin

You motherfuckers don’t even kno do you

Take some big and some pac

And you mix them up ter a pot

Sprinkle a little bit yellow top

What the fuck do you got?

You got the realest and illest killers

Tied up te a wrong

The jebanauds of this rap shit

Like it or not it’s like a fight to the top

To see who diegene for the spot

You waterput your life ter this

Nothin like survivng a slok

Y’all know what time it is

Soon spil 50 signs on this dot

Shit what you know about death threats

Cause I get alot

Shady records wasgoed 80 seconds

Away from the towers

Them cowards fucked with the wrong building

They meant to klapper ours

Better evacuate all children

Their nuclear showers theres nothin spookier

Your now about to witness the power

I’ve bot patiently waiting

For a track to explode on (yea)

You get stunned if you want

And yo booty’ll get flipped on (it’s 50)

A fuse like my flows

Bot hot for so long (yea)

If you thinkin i’moeder fuckin

Fall of your so wrong

It’s the gun squad here

And you hear the shots go off

(it’s 50, they say it’s 50)

You see a nigga laid out

Wit his fuckin top deep-throated off

(it’s 50, man that wasgoed’nt 50)

They don’t holla my name

You should’nt throw stones

If you live te a glass house

And if you got a glass jaw

You should witness your mouth

Cause I’ll pauze your face

Have you butt runnin

Mumbling to the check

Your going against mij dogg

You makin a mistake

You lookin like them

Michael jack-son jackets

Wit all them zippers

I’m the boss on this boat

You can call mij skipper

The way I turn the money overheen

You should call mij flipper

Your bitch a regular bitch

Your callin hier wifey

I fucked hier feed hier quick food

You keepin’ hier icee

I’m down to sell records

But not my soul

Snoop said this te ’94

Wij don’t love them ho’s

I got pennies for my dogs

See the 20’s spinnin’

Lookin mean on the 6

Nigga’s wearin flags

Cause the colors match they clothes

The get caught te the wrong spandex hood

And packed up with crevices

I’ve bot patiently waiting

For a track to explode on (yea)

You get stunned if you want

And yo arse’ll get flipped on (it’s 50)

A fuse like my flows

Bot hot for so long (yea)

If you thinkin im’a fuckin

Fall of your so wrong

Man wij gotta go get something to eat man

I’m greedy spil a motherfucker

Ay yo man, damn what’s taking homie so long son?

50, quiet down, here he come

Ahh, ohh, what the fuck!?

Ahh! son, pull up! pull up!

Many boys, wish death upon mij

Blood te my eye dawg and I can’t see

I’m attempting to be what I’m destined to be

And niggas attempting to take my life away

I waterput a slot te a nigga for fucking with mij

My back on the wall, now you gon’ see

Better witness how you talk, when you talk about mij

‘Cause I’ll come and take your life away

Wish death upon mij

Lord I don’t sob no more

Don’t look to the sky no more

Have grace on mij

Go on and get your refund motherfucker, I ain’t dead

I’m the diamond te the filth, that ain’t bot found

I’m the underground king and I ain’t bot crowned

When I rhyme, something special toebijten every time

I’m the greatest, something like Ali te his prime

I walk the block with the bundles

I’ve bot knocked on the modest

Sway the ox when I rumble

Voorstelling your caboose what my gun do

Got a temper nigga, go’head, lose your head

Turn your back on mij, get clapped and lose your gams

I walk around gun on my mid-body, chip on my shoulder

Till I bust a clip te your face, cooter, this beef ain’t overheen

Wish death upon mij

Lord I don’t sob no more

Don’t look to the sky no more

Have grace on mij

Have grace on my soul

Somewhere my heart turned cold

Have grace on many dudes

Many, many, many, many boys

Wish death upon mij

Joy wouldn’t feel so good, if it wasn’t for anguish

Death gotta be effortless, ’cause life is hard

It’ll leave you physically, mentally, and emotionally scarred

This if for my niggas on the block, twisting trees and cigars

For the niggas on lock, doing life behind caf

I don’t see only aker can judge mij, ’cause I see things clear

Quick thesis crackers will give my black bum a hundred years

I’m like Paulie ter Goodfellas, you can call mij the Don

Like Malcolm by any means, with my gun te my palm

Slender switched sides on mij, let niggas rail on mij

I thought wij wasgoed cool, why you want mij to diegene homie?

Wish death upon mij

Lord I don’t sob no more

Don’t look to the sky no more

Have grace on mij

Have grace on my soul

Somewhere my heart turned cold

Have grace on many studs

Many, many, many, many studs

Wish death upon mij

I know he protecting mij, but I still stay with my gat

Te my nightmares, niggas keep pulling techs on mij

Psych says some bitch dumb, waterput a hex on mij

The feds didn’t know much, when Pac got slok

I got a kite from the voormaag that told mij, Tuck got knocked

I ain’t gonna spell it out for you motherfuckers all the time

Are you illiterate nigga? You can’t read inbetween the lines

Te the bible it says, what goes around, comes around

Almost slok mij, three weeks zometeen he got slok down

Now it’s clear that I’m here, for a real reason

‘Cause he got succesnummer like I got succesnummer, but he ain’t fukcing breathing

Wish death upon mij

Lord I don’t sob no more

Don’t look to the sky no more

Have grace on mij

Have grace on my soul

Somewhere my heart turned cold

Have grace on many boys

Many, many, many, many studs

Wish death upon mij

Go, go, go shawty

It’s your bday

Wij gon’ party like it’s yo bday

Wij gon’ teleurgesteld bacardi like it’s your bday

And you know wij don’t give a fuck

It’s not your bday!

You can find mij ter the club, bottle total of bub

Look mami I got the x if you into taking drugs

I’m into having hook-up, I ain’t into making love

So come give mij a hug if you into to getting caressed

When I pull out up vuurlijn, you see the benz on dubs

When I roll 20 deep, it’s 20 knives ter the club

Niggas heard I fuck with dre, now they wanna display mij love

When you sell like eminem, and the platenhoes they wanna fuck

But homie ain’t nothing switch hold down, g’s up

I see xzibit ter the cutt that nigga roll that weed up

If you see how I budge you’ll mistake mij for a playa or pimp

Bot klapper wit a few shells but I don’t walk wit a gutless

Te the fetish mask then the ladies telling 50 you hot

They like mij, I want them to love mij like they love ‘pac

But holla ter fresh york them niggas’ll tell ya I’m loco

And the project is to waterput the rap spel te a gasp hold

I’m feelin’ focused man, my money on my mind

I got a mill out the overeenkomst and I’m still on the grindsteen

Now shawty said she feeling my style, she feeling my flow

Hier gf wanna get bisexual and they ready to go

My flow, my showcase brought mij the doen

That bought mij all my fancy things

My crib, my cars, my pools, my jewels

Look nigga I got k-mart and I ain’t switch

And you should love it, way more then you hate it

Nigga you mad? I thought that you’d be glad I made it

I’m that cat by the tapkast toasting to the good life

You that faggot bum nigga attempting to pull mij back right?

When my junk get to pumpin ter the club it’s on

I wink my eye at ya bitch, if she smiles she gone

If the roof on fire, let the motherfucker burn

If you talking moerbout money homie, I ain’t worried

I’m a tell you what banks told mij cause go ‘head switch the style up

If the niggas hate then let ’em hate

See the money pile up

Or wij go upside there wit a bottle of bub

You know where wij fucking be

[laughing] don’t attempt to act like you ain’t know where wij bot either nigga

Ter the club all the time nigga, it’s about to speelgoedpop off nigga

I don’t need onverstandig perignon, I don’t need cris

Tanqueray and alize, I don’t need shit

Nigga I’m high all the time, I smoke that good shit

I stay high all the time, man I’m on some spandex hood shit

Give mij a dutch and a lighter I’ll spark shit

And stay high all the time, I smoke that good shit

I’m high all the time, man I’m on some rubber hood shit

Everytime I roll up, niggas holla roll up, and I tell’em hold up,

You ain’t gettin money you ain’t smoking

Te my benzo, 20 inch lorenzos, smoking on indo

Hiiigh spil a motherfucker

I be on them backstreets, niggas know I clap fever, only if you got beef

Man you better holla at mij

Niggas get locked up, stabbed up, slok up

Everytime I speelgoedpop up, a lotsbestemming going on te my fetish mask

Daddy need fresh footwear

Daddy need perelli’s to look mean on 22s

Stash opbergruimte, xbox, laptop, fax machine, phone

Bulletproof this bitch and I’m gone

2003 suburban swerving, too many sips of henny

The d’s sick, they searched the whip and they can’t find the semis

They wasgoed just harassing mij cause they know who I wasgoed

Spent the night te central booking for smoking some bud

Now if you heard I done embarked some shit

It ain’t because I be high (I be high, I be high)

And if you heard I done let off a clip

It ain’t because I be high (I be high, I be high)

But i- twist that lade, schuiflade, schuiflade, schuiflade

Go against mij, fa sho, you’s a goner nigga

I don’t smoke to silent my nerves but I got beef

Finna crush my enemies like I crush the hashish

If you love mij, tell mij you love mij, don’t stare at mij man

I’d hate to be ter the benz clapping one of my ventilatoren

Let mij voorstelling you how to greet mij, when you meet mij, when you see mij

If you real my nigga, you know how to holla g-unit!

There’s no competition, it’s just mij,

50 cent, motherfucker, I’m hot on thesis streets

If david could go against goliath with a stone

I can go at nas and jigga, both for the throne

Now who you know besides mij who write lines and squeeze nines

And have platenhoes ter the bondage mask sniffin on white lines

You don’t want mij to be your kid’s role proefje

I’ll train them how to buck them 380s and blast up them hollows

Have shorty fresh off the stoop, ready to shoot

Big blunt ter his mouth, deuce deuce te his boot

Sit ter the crib, sippin guinness, watching menace

Then oh lord, have a youthfull nigga bucking shit like he o-dog

My team they depend on mij when it’s crunch time

I eat a nigga food ter broad day like it’s lunchtime

You feeling plucky nigga, go ahead get gully

See if I won’t leave your brains leaking up out your skully

I done made myself hot, so ain’t shit you can tell mij

Niggas calling mij to feature, man fuck your money

I ain’t hurting, I’m doing good

I ain’t got to write rhymes, I got bricks ter the rubber hood

G-unit, are you ready

G-unit, are you ready

Nigga, ready or not, here I come, come, come

Aye you want some of this shit

Naw, I don’t want that shit

I don’t give a fuck, I don’t play dat shit

And I’m fin’nin to buss a cap ter a nigga

Man shut the fuck up

Slow down, slow down, slow down

You see that brick house right there

That’s the nigga crib when he come out you gotta tighten his culo up

I’mamma get te the other car

Aight [a car revs up]

If there’s beef, salami it and dump it, the toneelstuk truly means nothin

To mij I’ll rail by and suck ya brains out (brains out)

There’s no time to pecker it, no way you can zekering it

When niggas run up on you wit them thangs out (thangs out)

I do what I gotta do I don’t care I if get caught

The da can play this motherfuckin gauze ter court

I’ll kill you – I ain’t playin, hear what I’m sayin, homie I ain’t playin

Catch you slippin, i’mamma kill you – I ain’t playin, hear what I’m sayin,

Homie I ain’t playin

Keep thinkin I’m candy till ya fuckin skull get popped

And ya brain hop out the top like jack-in-da-box (yeah!)

Te the spandex hood summer time is the killing season (wooh!)

It’s hot out this bitch that’s a good ’nuff reason

I’ve seen gangsta’s get religious when they begin bleedin

Sayin lord, jesus help mij cause they caboose leakin

When they window roll down and that a.k. come out

You can squeeze ya lil handgun until you run out

And you can run for ya back-up

But them machine gun shells gone rip ya back up

Maker’s on ya side, shit I’m aight wit that

Cause wij gonna reload them clips and come right back

It’s a fact homie, you go against mij ya fucked

I get the druppel, if you can duck, ya luckier then lady luck

Look nigga, don’t think you safe cause you moved out the spandex hood

Cuz ya momma still around dog, and daddy ain’t good

If you wasgoed brainy you’d be shook of mij

Cuz I’d get tired of lookin for ya, sploog ya momma crib, and let ya caboose look

My heart bleeds for you nigga, I can’t wait to get to you

Behind that twinkle ter ya eyes, I can see the bitch te you

Nigga you know the streets talk

So they’ll be no white flags and no peace talks

I got my back against the wind, I’m down to rail till the zon burn out

If I diegene today, I’m glad how my life turned out

See the shootouts that I’ve bot ter I’m by myself

Locked up I wasgoed ter a opbergruimte by myself

I done made myself a millionaire by myself

Now, shit switched motherfucker I can hire some help

I done heard about the 50 grand you waterput ter the rubber hood

But ya shooter fin’nin to get get slok it won’t do ’em no good

With a pistol I define the definition of anguish

If you get through ya bones’ll still fuckin hurt when it rain

Oh you a professional at playin battleship well this ain’t the same

Lil homie this is a entire different type of war spel

See the losers and up te fetters of motherfuckin chains

Or laid out ter the streets leakin out they brains

After the knuckle fights it’s gunfire boy you get the best of mij (best of mij)

If you don’t wanna get slok I suggest you don’t go testin mij (testin mij)

All the wrong I’ve done the lord still keep on blessin mij (blessin mij)

Fin’nin to run rap cuz dr. dre got the recipe (the recipe, recipe)

You got mij feelin real bulletproof up ter this motherfucker

Cuz my windows on my motherfuckin benz is bulletproof nigga

Cuz my motherfuckin vest is bulletproof nigga

Cuz my motherfuckin hat is bulletproof nigga

But the doc said if I get kasstuk I might get a fuckin concussion

Better that then a fuckhole te the head right nigga, haha hectare hectare

If I can’t do well, homey, it can’t be done

Now i’moe let the champagne bottle speelpop

I’mamma take it to the top

Fo sho i’mama make it hot, kindje (kindje)

I apply pressure to cootchies that stuntin I speelgoedpop

Stand alone squeezin my pistol I’m sure that I gotta

Now peter piper picked peppers and don’t rock rhymes

I’m 50 cent, I write a lil bit but I speelpop nines

Tell niggaz, get they money right, cuz I got mine

And I’m around abandon playin nigga you can’t shine

You gon be that next chump to end up te the trunk

After bein klapper by the pump, is that whut you want?

Be effortless nigga, I’ll lay your bum out

Believe mij nigga, thats whut I’m about, gangsta

You could find a nigga sittin on chrome

Succesnummer the clutch, klapper the gear, kasstuk the gas & I’m gone (yea!)

If I can’t do well, homey, it can’t be done

Now i’moe let the champagne bottle speelgoedpop

I’moe take it to the top

Fo sho i’mamma make it hot, zuigeling (kind)

I’m down for the activity, he brainy with his mouth so smack em

You holdin a strap, he might come back so clap em

React like a gangsta, diegene like a gangsta for actin

Cuz you’ll get kasstuk & homicide’ll be askin, whut happened?

Oh no look who clapped em with the fo’fo’

20 inch rims sittin chro-chrome

Eastside, westside niggaz oh no, no go

Even my moeder said, something indeed wrong with my brain

Niggaz don’t zeehond mij they know I’m down to diegene for my chain

G-unit! wij get it poppin te the fetish mask

G-unit! muthafucka whuts good?

I’m waitin on niggaz to act like they don’t know how to act

I had a teleurgesteld of too much jack, I’ll suck em off the ordner

With the mack, thinkin it’s all rap

Til that arse get clapped and doc say it’s a wrap

If I can’t do well, homey, it can’t be done

Now i’mama let the champagne bottle speelgoedpop

I’mamma take it to the top

Fo sho i’mama make it hot, kindje (kindje)

I bot feelin I had to instruct lessons to slow learners

Go head act up, get smacked ter the head with the burner

I don’t fight fair, I’m dirty-dirty

I’m from southside jamaica, queens, nigga ya’heard mij?

When streetlights come on niggaz blast the nines

Get locked up, they read books to pass the time

Te the spel there’s up’s and down’s, so I stay on the kiezelsteentjes

Niggaz on my dick more than my bitch, I stay on they mind

They ain’t nothin they could do to zekering my shine

This is godheid’s project homey, this ain’t mine

I played the music noisy so grandpa called mij a nuisance

And grandma, who always gotta throw a 100 procent

I’m the druppel out who made more more money than thesis teachers

Roofless/ruthless like the coupe but I come with more features

I am whut I am, you could like it or love it

It feels good to pull 50 grand & think nothin of it

If I can’t do well, homey, it can’t be done

Now i’moeder let the champagne bottle speelgoedpop

I’mamma take it to the top

Fo sho i’mama make it hot, zuigeling (zuigeling)

Now i’moe let the champagne bottle speelpop

I’mama take it to the top

Fo sho i’mamma make it hot, kindje (zuigeling)

Dr dre, aftermath

G-Unit, UTP, G-Unit, UTP

G-Unit, UTP, 50 Cent, get ’em bucked

50 Cent, that’s my name

Man I ain’t fuckin’ playin’

I stir on you wit’ that Mac mayn (Mac mayn)

Come off, now observe your chain

Fo’ I deep-throat out your brains

Shells klapper your chest go out your back mayn (back mayn)

See mij I waterput ter work, man I bot doin’ mess

For so long when niggas get laid out (laid out)

Niggas run through my crib, to holla at the kid

That’s when I begin bringin’ them thangs out (thangs out)

Then wij go through the unwrap, hangin’ up out the whip

Dumpin’ clips off at they entire clique mayn (clique mayn)

When witnesses around, they know how wij get down

So when the cops come they ain’t see shit mayn (shit mayn)

My soldiers slangin’ ‘caine, sunny, snow, te sleet or rain

Come through the spandex hood and you can cop that (cop that)

I’m sittin’ on some switch, G-Unit gots the spel

Come through here stuntin’ you get popped at (popped at)

I love to pump crack, love to stay strapped

Love to squeeze gats but you don’t hear mij tho’

I love to klapper the block, I love my two Glocks

Love to bust shots but you don’t hear mij tho’

I came ter this spel knowin’ niggas gon’ hate mij

Just for the elementary fact they know that I’m a rida’ (rida’)

I got a hell of a aim, I keep on tellin’ ya mayn

I swear ain’t nobody gon’ find ya (find ya)

When I get lifted I’m tempted to rip your block up

Your niggas can’t run cause I’m behind ya (behind ya)

Mij and Chilly ter your city wit’ a duo nine-milli’s

You better stay te line bro’ (ter line bro’)

Cause if I walk it I’ll talk it, you know wij’ll walk up and speelpop it

I love the sound of gunfire bro’ (gunfire bro’)

Right now wij smackin’ ’em wit’ platinum

And they hate it cause wij made it, that’s what wij keep that eye for (that eye for)

I represent it cause I’m te it, UTP until I’m finished

Juvenile, they can’t zekering us (can’t zekering us)

And I admit it, I live it

I’ll knock a baller off his pivot with this motherfuckin’ choppa’

My twenty-inches spinnin’, you always see mij grinin’

And you hear niggas call mij grimey (grimey)

They succesnummer mij wit’ them bricks, and I ain’t pay ’em shit

I’m outta town, they can’t find mij (find mij)

When I come back around, man I’mama back ’em down

I run up bustin’ that Tec mayn (Tec mayn)

If you ain’t got a gun, and you can’t fuckin’ run

My advice is you succesnummer the deck mayn (deck mayn)

But if you get away and come back another day

My soldiers’ll leave you raw mayn (humid mayn)

Cause wij know where you be, and wij know where you stay

And wij’ll come trippin’ through your set mayn (set mayn)

Man you heard what I said, now get it te your head

I ain’t payin’ no fuckin’ debt mayn (debt mayn)

Cause you’se a middle man, but you don’t understand

You’se a fuckin’ fake bum connect’ mayn (connect’ mayn)

If you look closely, 50 don’t back down

Everywhere I go both coasts wit toast

Eastside, westside, I hold that mack down

Every little nigga you see around mij

Hold a gun big enough to fuckin hold shaq down

Next time you te the bondage mask and see an ol g

You ask about mij, the youthful boy don’t back down

Voorwaarde decease existin, little nigga, now listen

Yo mami, yo papi, that bitch you chasin

Ya little dirty arse kids, I’ll fuckin erase them

Your success is not enough, you wanna be hard

Knowin that, you get knocked, you get fucked ter the yard

Youza poptart sweetheart, you soft ter the middle

I eatcha for breakfast, the witness wasgoed an exchange for your necklace

And your boss is a bitch, if he could he would

Sell his soul for cheap, trade his +knight+ to be suge

You can buy cars but you can’t buy respect te the rubber hood

Maybe I’m so disrespectfu cuz to mij you’re a mystery

I know niggaz from ya spandex hood, you have no history

Never sold nothin, never popped nothin, nigga zekering frontin

Jay waterput you on, x made you hot

Now you run around like you some big slok

How wij gonna eat man? 50 back around

That’s ja’s lil punker bum thinkin out noisy

Southside, tah died, that’s just how I get down

I’m back ter the spel shawty, to +rule+ and conquer

You sing for platenhoes and sound like the cookie monster

I’m the hardest from fresh york, my flow is bonkers

All the other hard niggaz, they come from yonkers

It’s bot years and you had the same niggaz ter the background

You never gonna sell unless cadd tah’s crack child

Them niggaz they just suck, they no good

I ain’t never heard a nigga say they like them ter the fetish mask

I’m back better than everzwijn, on top of my spel

Even them country boys sayin 50 wij feelin you mayn

Now you stay the fuck outta my zone, outta my throne

I’m fresh york city’s own. bad stud (bad boy)

I ain’t tellin anyone you gettin extored

It ain’t overheen. (g-unit)

I’ve bot patently waitin to bloww

Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the 50 cent vertoning

This is my life, my anguish, my night, my gun

Now that I’m back, you can’t sleep

I’m a nightmare huuhhhh

You hired cops to hold you down cuz you fear for your life

You heard about them guns I done bought, right?

I ain’t goin no where, I done told you nigga

I’mama g-unit motherfuckin solider nigga (they not gon like you)

I know, I know. hectare, hectare (g-unit)

I don’t know what you heard about mij

But a bitch can’t get a dollar out of mij

No cadillac, no perms, you can’t see

That I’m a motherfucking p-i-m-p

Now shorty, she ter the club, she dancing for dollars

She got a thing for that gucci, that fendi, that prada

That bcbg, burberry, dolce and gabana

She feed them foolish fantasies, they pay hier cause they wanna

I slobber a little g man, and my spel got hier

A hour straks, have that bum up te the ramada

Them trick niggas te hier ear telling they think about hier

I got the bitch by the caf attempting to get a drink up out hier

She like my style, she like my smile, she like the way I talk

She from the country, think she like mij cause I’m from fresh york

I ain’t that nigga attempting to holla cause I want some head

I’m that nigga attempting to holla cause I want some bread

I could care less how she perform when she ter the bedding

Bitch kasstuk that track, catch a date, and come and pay the kid

Look zuigeling this is elementary, you can’t see

You fucking with mij, you fucking with a p-i-m-p

I’m moerbout my money you see, dame you can holla at mij

If you fucking with mij, I’m a p-i-m-p

Not what you see on tv, no cadillac, no greasy

Head utter of hair, bitch I’m a p-i-m-p

Come get money with mij, if you nosey to see

How it feels to be with a p-i-m-p

Roll te the benz with mij, you could witness tv

From the backseat of my v, I’m a p-i-m-p

Damsel wij could speelgoedpop some champagne and wij could have a ball

Wij could toast to the good life, chick wij could have it all

Wij could indeed splurge lady, and rip up the mall

If everzwijn you needed someone, I’m the one you should call

I’ll be there to pick you up, if everzwijn you should fall

If you got problems, I can solve’em, they big or they petite

That other nigga you be with ain’t moerbout shit

I’m your friend, your father, and confidant, bitch

I told you fools before, I stay with the implements

I keep a benz, some rims, and some jewels

I holla at a hoe til I got a bitch confused

She got on payless, mij I got on gator footwear

I’m shopping for chinchillas, te the summer they cheaper

Man this hoe you can have hier, when I’m done I ain’t gon keep hier

Man, bitches come and go, every nigga pimpin know

You telling it’s secret, but you ain’t gotta keep it on the low

Bitch choose with mij, I’ll have you disrobing ter the street

Waterput my other platenhoes down, you get your bum hammer

Now nik my bottom bitch, she always come up with my bread

The last nigga she wasgoed with waterput stitches ter hier head

Get your hoe out of pocket, I’ll waterput a charge on a bitch

Cause I need Four tvs and amgs for the six

Hoe make a pimp rich, I ain’t paying bitch

Catch a date, suck a dick, shiiit, trick

Ter the spandex hood they say, there’s no b’ness like hoe b’ness ya know

They say I talk a lil prompt, but if you listen a lil swifter

I ain’t got to slow down for you to catch up, bitch

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