[50 Cent] I woke up this morning, this is insane Rich as a motherfucker and ain't much change Open my eyes, no suprise, I'm with a different bitch Different day, different ass, different tits Strap under my pillow, I don't want legit I'm not supposed to do this shit but I forget The true principles of life are supply and demand Guess if you never sold dope it's hard to understand My man got knowledge of self, at my back God Find out today's mathematics when that Mac go off My temper volatile, grew up a violent child Fuck a boy scout - I air yo' ass out Nigga nice chain, dice game, try your luck Shoot a couple head cracks, leave you while you up I'm a fly nigga, my denim vintage Gold medal 'round my neck like I won the Olympics
[Chorus] We came from nothin, now they sayin we straight Nigga hold up, hold on... Hold on... These niggaz they watchin every dime we make Hold up, hold on... Hold on...
[over Chorus] You got that? Let Yayo hold the strap son, it's cool We got bail money, whatever Y'all niggaz gotta chill Just be cool about this shit, relax
[50 Cent] We want that deluxe apartment in the sky with a clear view Instead we get the D's in the rear view We learn to play the game how it's supposed to be played And so you know you violate you supposed to be sprayed It's not a big deal to me, stay calm I'll shoot the shit out a nigga then call the barrel Bonds If I don't do this shit myself, bet I'll get it done Shit on my nigga, you shit on me, we are one Used to do graffiti, now look, we major Don't make me write my name 'cross your face with a razor Re-up, new joke, they said this sample the bomb This shit can take a two then we cut the bitch with a one, uhh Watch the fiends stand in line for the potency No lactose involved, pure cocoa leaf You can sniff that or cook that to my belief That money comin in like we run the streets
[Chorus]
[over Chorus] That's a bet Find my form better Nigga you got a gamblin problem I'm winnin, you losin You got the gamblin problem Yeah... yeah What's up? What we doin?
[50 Cent] This shit go how I say it go when it's time to expand So say it's over your dead body and that's the plan You a gangster for real, you ready to ride Nigga you gon' die a bad case of too-much-pride Check my Dna, homie I'm a different kind Hit the speed dial that quick, I'll get ya lined Won't want your block, just cop the work from us Them niggaz you call allies can't be trust That Roley all gold, I got the Midas touch Sometimes it's hard as hell not to touch stuff On the phone I heard Yay' smacked the shit out a kid Now Jimmy got life, go smack him again When it's war, it will be war to the bitter end If they ever say we lose, I start it again That sneaky nigga sprayed that semi at yo' momma crib With a silencer, we couldn't even hear the shit
[Chorus]
[over Chorus] I don't fuck with them Pssh, man, these niggaz is roaches man Dirty ass niggaz Boy you better be easy I ain't playin wit'chu boy Boy you must've bumped yo' motherfuckin head or somethin boy I don't give a fuck about that old school shit You talkin 'bout you got me fucked up nigga Yeah...
Confirmação de Idade
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Compositor: Desconhecido no ECADIntérpretes: Curtis James Jackson (50 Cent) (PREMIER), Young BuckPublicado em 2007ECAD verificado fonograma #13226750 em 21/Abr/2024 com dados da UBEM