I ain't goin alive, I'd rather die than be a convict I'd rather fire on my target I hit the corner doing ninety, ahhhh shit! Them bitches right behind
window screamin, "Lord come and get me" Am I sick, or am I just another victim? Unloadin my clip, I'm watchin every bullet spit when I kick em Niggaz
time it seem they tryin to take mine So I'ma get smart, and get defensive and shit And put together a million march, for some gangsta shit So now
I call them Mobb Bitch Nigga eaters And I won't whimper till I'm gone Thug Life Running through my veins So I'm strong Ha ha ha Bye Bye bye Lets get
I don't represent the shit, I'll kick it. We could sway him. Huh. As if I know ya. Then I could show ya. But if I don't know, I gotta fo' fo' fo' ya.
sniffing*} I can't feel my face I mean I can touch it, but I can't feel it, inside [Chorus: 50 Cent (Robin Thicke)] (Cocaine) I know police is watchin
think of me I wanna get to know ya and be the reason you smile Girl, you know where I'm from, you know how I get down When times are tough, tell me that I
crip-walking in the wrong hood I'm fresh up out the slammer, I ain't no fucking bama I'm from the wild whody, but I know country grammar See me I get
it comes to paper I blow a soul outta aero I'ma break before I lay floor berry Besides, every rapper ain't a star, nigga plad ain't bulbary You can't
South I 95, 85, 65 right at the I 10, get your money widened I got the Columbian, and I'm gonna hold 'em down When you get close, call nigga I'm gonna
] Look I'm supposed to be cocky, I ain't a po' no mo' I ain't gotta steal from the corna' store no mo' Got my own crib, I ain't sleepin' on the flo' no
their life so don't know who I know Writin rhymes is the best way I express how I feel If I ain't rich by twenty-six, I'll be dead or in jail Comin up
together man, I got your number from Heather she said you sell guns, I got beef I wanna see what you got and if I like it I'll cop (Fifty) Damm nigga
sense And I ain't been common since I slipped up and made these same promises Problem is: I can't keep them And we ain't even And you get your son back
say it all, so we ain't gotta talk. I got fly spot southside queens New York. Now you know I wanna fuck, no doubt but I wanna try a different route, Don't
I'ma break 'fore I lay on the floor buried besides, every rapper ain't a star, and every plaid ain't Burberry (uh huh) You can't tame Lloyd, I'm smokin
: [50 Cent:] R.I.P. B.I.G. man ya'll niggas have some audacity Sell four mill then get half of me Get off my dick I'm the shit I know ya'll niggas copying
I heard ya'll niggas on that fly shit Yeah that trap or die shit ... the block don't let it get too hot And move... get you high shit Me I'm in that cockpit