, yo Chief, pass the Buddha [Chorus] [Verse Three: 50 Cent] When I was young my M.O. was to go hand-to-hand And even my P.O. she called me the Ginger
I could still remember seeing days in the made wishing she would just hurry up and enter the stage so this hundred I been saving for my P.I.P. I spent
skills I'm a put it in a tournament, I call her christmas tree, she got ornaments, I can't control my penis, twelve o'clock burn up that venus, whoever
cell He's still trying to suffer Left handed sto-o-o-p REPEAT CHORUS Oohoooh (x4) I'm not trying to suffer Left handed sto-o-o-p REPEAT CHORUS (x2
since I'm weed fiend for the green nigga gotta make that money man [8x] It's real always [verse 3] Last night I P.O.D'd next to me Ouija, Ouija, and
tilt man, quarter o to the brain Smokin' like blunt after blunt my niggas insane Other niggas can't hang, it's a BONE thing How a nigga like me smoke
is no need for a remix It's CiCi, T.P. we be T-H-E B-E-S-T I, R-I-P every M.C. On their S-O-N-G I stop that beat so I can speak one more word of unique
I'm on fire Know that u goin leave out here wit your pockets lighter Count a stack about a hundred grand, rubber band I'm like your other hand, aint no other
I'm from Dade County Bitch I'm from Dade County Bitch I'm from Dade County (I'ma be forever thuggin', baby) Bitch I'm from Dade County Bitch I'm from
P P P Peep this We got bottles over here Kush is in the air.. we good ( O. D. O.D.) Bithces over there.. we good (O. D. O. D.) Money on the floor we
on your porch, so be Careful what you say, there ain't no punks over here so follow me Through the fog like I'm S-N-double-O-P Let me guide you through
stompin and stampedin up the damn street Like them buffalo soldiers, I told ya I'm bout' to blow So look out below, geronimo, motherfuckers is dominos I'm
m gonna buy this fuckin' planet before the time I'm through I was praised and raised on the thoughts of no takings So let me get what I got comin' and the rest I'm
ounce of Afghan--fuck that I'm from the city where they show no pity Niggaz get buried in the ground like Frank Nitti Nigga--fill my cup up with V-S-O-P
I'm Staten Island's best son fuck what you heard Niggaz still talkin that shit is absurd My repotoire, is U.S.S.R. P.L.O. style got thrown out the car
m deadly I'm talkin Anthrax, the other side of the tracks You know the Amtrak; multi-millionaire still rockin amulets I was turnt up to the mess but now I'm
P.D. They gotta understand, they beat on a blackman There's gonna be drama, know what I'm sayin? And if we flip, let's all flip together Cause I'm prepared
: Come on Come on [ VERSE 1 ] Do this, ugh, come on, come on Time to get wreck and kick the so on and so on The I-c-e-T O.G. M.C. L.A.P.D. H-a-t-