[50 Yo, yo we can't stay forever So if shit hit the fan we might as well die together I'm high as ever, more and more cheddar G-Unit move wit them pounds and berreta's Yea faggot, if I want it I'm gon' it if it's handed to me or I gotta grab it Don't a ass outta yaself tryin to stop me I'm cocky, raps rocky, nigga you You that I'm, 8 levels above you nigga I'll you nigga, I never heard of you nigga, its ugly nigga I'm the wrong one to You on niggas is only gon' leave you smoked So the only thing now is toast for these cowrads I got no friends, fuck of these cowards They pop shit 'till we approaching these cowards While we lay around dollars, lay around flowers
Banks] I got a intergangstress who argue and wit reefer And who flip when I call a like she Queen Latifah Not all the is long enough to stash the streetsweeper This shit can get uglier than the P sneaker We slidin through the ruckus, wit on the chuckus Soon as spring break ho's from college wanna fuck us I here to drop knowledge on you suckas I'll sick rottweiler's on you fuckas, cops to cuff us Top dollars to discuss this, whole zeros When it comes to I blow a soul outta aero break before I lay floor berry Besides, every rapper a star, nigga plad ain't bulbary You can't tame Lloyd, smokin by the big You changin the looks like I'm playin the game boy I the rocks botherin ya vision But and I'll put a dot on ya head like its part of yo religion Why wit a pigeon? I'm blowin a 10 'cause Bush flyers for a party in a prison I'm in the gucci wit the green and red straps I'm the last rapper to niggas since Craig Mack Now morning's a fast start And there aint problem dressed 'cause my closet got more aisles than pathmark Run, move startin to and wit 12 shells in ya mouth like a carton of eggs I'm the young pardon my age I got long hair but if I did she be partin my braids We just find out what club at take 'em wit us, and run a train on 'em like a mat yer advance is a acura these record got most artists gettin fucked like the gay rappa' i go to on a tour I'm goin down in history nigga, next to Wallace and I keep ya ammo clean, tec's in the drawer Camera's by the hamper that mine into the by now, you probably of me outta surgery, flashy as a fuck, you gon' have to murder me Burglary, leavin wit cha nike's burgandy, White T, burgandy you match now, back love to hate you, but love you when you disappear catch me on the boat wit smoke and fishing gear when I toke, C notes from different years Besly in the robe, for liftin chairs We rich, but we be glad to snatch ya I cars to your crib like I'm a cab dispatcha you better off wit ya guys, lookin for a coupe to drive you ain't gettin nuttin but ya french supersized it's a damn y'all still local I'm in a dollar studio layin my vocals
[50 Still in the projects nigga, you ain't goin you fuckin be there for the rest of yo muthafuckin life and yo momma said, I'm supposed to you somethin..... to encourage you, positive aight I ain't gon' lie to you muthafucka, he ain't goin nowhere get yaself a beer, get on the curb dirtbag