50 Cent - Animal Ambition: An Untamed Desire to Win Album Lyrics


50 Cent Lyrics

Animal Ambition: An Untamed Desire to Win Lyrics
(Lyrics to the Full Album on one page)

Hold On

[Verse 1]
I woke up this morning, this is insane
Rich as a motherf*cker, and ain't much changed
Open my eyes, no surprise, I'm with a different bitch
Different day, different ass, different tits
Strap under my pillow, I don't want the jit
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
F*ck a boy scout, I air your ass out
Nigga, nice chain, dice game, try your luck
Shoot a couple head cracks, leave wipe you up
I'm a fly nigga, my denim vintage
Gold medal around my neck like I won the Olympics

[Hook]
We came from nothing, now they saying we straight
Nigga, hold up, hold on
Hold on
These niggas, they watching every dime we make
Hold up, hold on
Hold on

[Verse 2]
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 of a nigga, then call it Barrel Bonds
But, if I don't do this shit myself, bet I'll get it done
Shit on my nigga, you shit on me, we of one
Used to do graffiti, now look we major
Don't make me write my name across your face with a razor
Re-Up, new joke, they say this sample the bomb
This shit can take a two and we cut this bitch with a one
Watch the fiends stand in line for the potency
No lactose involved, pure propo leaf
You can sniff that or cook that to my belief
That money coming in like we run the streets

[Hook]

[Verse 3]
This shit go how I said, 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 gonna 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 won't your block, just cop your work from us
Those niggas you call allies can't be trust
That Rollie all gold, I got the Midas touch
Sometimes it's hard as hell not to touch stuff
On the phone I heard 'Ye smacked the shit outta a kid
Now Jimmy got life, gonna smack him again
When it's war, it'll be war to the very end
If they ever say we lose, I start it again
Let's sneak the niggas spray that Semi at your momma crib
With a silencer we couldn't even hear that shit

[Hook]

Writer: David Darnell Brown, Curtis James Jackson
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Corp.

 

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Don't Worry 'Bout It

[Hook: 50 Cent]
Don't worry 'bout how I get my money, bitch, just know I get my money
Don't worry 'bout I spend my money, boy, I got a lot
Don't worry 'bout that car I drive, don't worry 'bout that bike I ride
Don't worry 'bout them diamonds in that bezel on my watch
Don't worry 'bout it, don't worry 'bout it
Don't worry 'bout a mothaf*ckin' thing
Don't worry 'bout it, don't worry 'bout it
We got a strap up in here if niggas playing

[Verse 1: 50 Cent]
When time pass and I'm not around, niggas saying I'm out of town
Probably moving them bricks around, they swear they know how I get down
Don't worry 'bout what I'm doing, don't worry 'bout what I'm doing
My closet full of that fly shit, black card when I buy shit
Sell the shit you get high with, these niggas on my dick
Don't worry 'bout what I'm doing, don't worry 'bout what I'm doing
That's your bitch, I understand, I've seen it all on Instagram
I'm just from the past, I done been all in that ass
Don't worry 'bout what I'm doing, don't worry 'bout what I'm doing

[Hook]

[Verse 2: Yo Gotti]
Don't be worry 'bout my record deals cause I still got my plug
Don't be worry 'bout my bitch pimping, she get money out that club
Don't be worry 'bout my partners and 'em, we get money, we eating
You talk shit 'bout a real nigga, bitch, you must be tweaking
Don't be worried 'bout my whereabouts, money all I care about
Keeping it real in my neighborhood, play with me and I'mma air it out
Why you worry 'bout my money, nigga? Bitch, you think I'm broke?
The Fed worry 'bout what I'm doing, think I'm selling dope
I may be and I may not, go to jail I may rot
I ain't never gon' snitch, nigga, never been no bitch nigga
I got big guns, need a extra large, y'all niggas got question marks
Talking down on a real nigga, that's how you get a hater charged

[Hook]

[Verse 3: 50 Cent]
Don't worry 'bout what they talking 'bout
Don't tell me what that bitch done said
I'm done with her, you can go with her
I'm leaving here with another bitch
Don't worry 'bout how they look at me
My diamonds on, damn, look at me
These pussy nigga be shooked at me
Wanna judge and throw the book at me
Don't worry 'bout it, I ain't worried 'bout it
Had time to talk to my legal team
Don't worry 'bout it, I ain't worried 'bout it
Ain't shit they could do to me
Still rocking, still rolling
We holding, bill folding, you know it
When I start to ball out money start to fall out
Throw it up, it fall out the sky
Baddest bitches go all out, whole bar get bought out
That's what I call my lifestyle

[Hook]

 

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Animal Ambition

I got that animal (animal) ambition
I got that animal (animal) ambition
I got that animal (animal) ambition
I got that animal (animal) ambition

While we were loving the fit
She just want some bread
I ain't talking to tits
And I just want some head
She from a Pirus sip
Where all them niggas wear red
I ain't flying no flags but I'm a gangster bitch
I say say no to drugs then I do that shit
Got a blue fleet of whips
I'm so hood nigga rich
You don't like the way I do it nigga eat your dick
I just call em when I want em don't need your bitch
See my blood on these diamonds everything proper
Your shit look grown and your shit look copper
It's turning homie that's why your turning on me
Admit it I made it, I can't be faded
I roll it up in public I'm a cancer man
Smoke it out in the open like I'm in Amsterdam
I do a hundred miles an hour switching lens in my lane
See my name around the globe niggas know who I am

[Hook:]
I got that animal (animal) ambition [x9]

You say you hustle like a hustle I be moving shit
Had a couch and a U-Haul filled up with bricks
Got them straps and long clips filled up with led
So when we count on the paper it better come back correct
We out in New Orleans baby niggas hungry for brick
I do that knife for stuntin get shot in the head
Every hood I go through they f*ck with me you dig?
Got the eye of the tiger I'm on that animal shit
I got the heart of a lion and the looks of an elephant
Damn scared of rats, but I'm ready for anything
It's the unit my nigga, take a look at my face
See if you test me they'll arrest me I'll be catching a case
New York is a concrete jungle, where niggas got to get paid
Get in the way of that paper and niggas got to get sprayed
Look at me wrong and your dead
You should be very afraid
I don't know how to behave
I'm tamed fresh out the cage
Urrrrrrrrrrhhhh

[Hook]

 

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Pilot

[Hook]
Me, I'm like a pilot, G5 Jet I'm fly as shit
You cannot deny it, oh no, no-no, no-no
Bitches be on my dick, designer threads, I'm fly as shit
You cannot deny it, oh no, no-no, no-no
Better back up off me, bitch watch me ball (ball)
Better back up off me, bitch watch me ball (ball)
Better back up off me, bitch watch me ball (ball)
Better back up off me, bitch watch me ball (ball)

[Verse 1]
Nigga every law and every rule I break, feds trying to watch the moves I make
Everyday I get birthday cake, there's a hundred racks there in that safe
Hundred grands there on that plate, I ain't thinking 'bout catching no case
Thinking my safe house super safe, I zip zippers I don't tie no lace
Tom Ford, Y-S-L, nigga, run and tell, I'm fly as hell
Big Bentley, Mulsanne, no LP, just two songs
A-side, B-side, Rider gang, bitch, that's right
From N.O. to N.Y., I got shooters bitch, don't act cute and shit
We was born broke, no silver spoon, my niggas strapped, they super goons
These niggas here kinda soft, we get the bread, then f*ck it off
Get more money, then f*ck it off, make your bitch wan' suck me off
We ain't had shit, we learned to ball, them ghetto bitches they love us all

[Hook]

[Verse 2]
Shorty bounce it, and she clap that, slide down the pole, she's a super ho
That gold cuban, I jack that, you niggas know how this is supposed to go
I'm in the club with niggas, I clap that, that P90 I pack that
Your f*ckin' head, I crack that, you wanna test me? Don't test me
Look, lover boy what're you trippin' for, niggas don't even want your ho
My nigga Ill fresh out the pen, you gonna make him go back again
Them bottles coming, we turnt up, them sparks burnin' now watch us shine
You do this shit once a year, we do this shit all the time
Now captain come and save her, get her from around this paper
She'll never be the same, I mean like everything will change
She cute blow a little cheese on her, get her ass shots, throw D's on her
Them shoes more than you think though, my bitch look like my bank roll

[Hook]

Writer: Curtis James Jackson
Copyright: Lyrics © Todd Mayfield Publishing, 50 Cent Music, Universal Music Corp.

 

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Smoke

[Intro: Trey Songz]
Somebody pull the fire alarm, girl, where you from?
Cause you got this club on fire and outside I bet all they smell is smoke
(All they smell is smoke)
The way your body roll I'ma lose control
Cause you got this club on fire and outside I bet all they smell is smoke
(All they smell is smoke)

[Verse 1: 50 Cent]
Pink diamonds, pink sand, beaches Aruba
Blue sapphires on days when she feeling Hoover
She hood and in the mood when I'm in the mood
Erotic, so exotic, I'm psychotic about it
I don't want forever, I just wanna taste her love sample
That product, I bet a nigga tongue go numb
She's a narcotic, that bomb shit burning, we smoking
My old flame, my Mary Jane, we got a love thing
She ain't jealous, I keep Nina around
In the small of my back in case some shit go down
Right under my Hermes, I'm hearing the word is
Me, I'm a P.I.M.P
I let Trey hit some, then Dre hit some
Then pass it to the homies 'til we all get done
Niggas can't comprehend what this shit 'bout
Police coming, you like, put this shit out

[Hook: Trey Songz (50 Cent)]
You like smoke and you got me high
(You make a nigga want to get down)
High (High feeling like I'm up in a cloud)
Girl what the f*ck you done to me
You got me feeling like you just rolled up for me
You're like smoke
And you got me high
(So high make your love come down)
High (one time have that ass turnt out)
Girl what the f*ck you've done to me?
You got me feeling like you just rolled up for me
You're like smoke

[Verse 2: 50 Cent]
Shawty hot, she full blown, she hot now
100 degrees, that's with or without the top down
But when she get to working her hips you know the temperature rise
Oh lord, soon as she see the dick in her thighs
She like the stones in my cross, she flawless
I'm thinking damn, why would God give one woman all this?
You know I got the kind of conversation that make her feel like she need me
It's complicated, my occupation pimping ain't easy
Facts, I stack racks on racks and racks
Back when I was pumping crack, now my cards are black
Nigga get on my level, bark with the big dogs
If I want it I buy it, I don't care what this shit costs
Luther said it: A house is not a home without her
I had them panties on the grey hound filled up with powder
But what she showed what she'll do for me has no limits
Her wantin is temporary cause fo' sho' she gon' get it
What's up?

[Hook: Trey Songz (50 Cent)]
You like smoke and you got me high
(You make a nigga want to get down)
High (High feeling like I'm up in a cloud)
Girl what the f*ck you done to me
You got me feeling like you just rolled up for me
You're like smoke
And you got me high
(So high make your love come down)
High (one time have that ass turnt out)
Girl what the f*ck you've done to me?
You got me feeling like you just rolled up for me
You're like smoke

[Verse 3: Trey Songz]
Everybody showing the love when she at the door
Turn this bitch down, that's fire in the hole
I'm trying to get it and hit it, I don't wanna pass that
Got me addicted, I'm tripping, where the stash at?
Baby, baby, don't you know?
Baby, baby, you're just like smoke

[Hook: Trey Songz (50 Cent)]
You like smoke and you got me high
(You make a nigga want to get down)
High (High feeling like I'm up in a cloud)
Girl what the f*ck you done to me
You got me feeling like you just rolled up for me
You're like smoke
And you got me high
(So high make your love come down)
High (one time have that ass turnt out)
Girl what the f*ck you've done to me?
You got me feeling like you just rolled up for me
You're like smoke

 

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Everytime I Come Around

[Intro: 50 Cent]
N-Y N-Y
Till I, D eye
N-Y N-Y
Till I, D eye

[Hook: 50 Cent]
I'm on its
Everytime I come around, me I keep my gun around
Its never on safety
I'm on it
Niggas know when I'm around, f*ck around its goin' down
No ifs or maybes
Ring around the rosies, pockets full of OZ's
Niggas gettin' cake made
F*ck with the homies while I got it on me
You'll get your big brick man

[Verse 1: 50 Cent]
You niggas ain't seen shit yet, one false move and I click clack
That oo wop but y'all spit that, that hard white I flip that
That bad bitch get my dick wet, damn how hot can my shit get
Boy get outta line get your ass checked, got 10 mil my last check
Bitches stay where that cash at, diamonds on me I flash that
That rari' pedal I mash that, you pussy niggas I laugh at
That f*ck shit that keep f*ck niggas be doin' man I'm passed that
Hood nigga down there on wall street, my stock run across NASDAQ
Girl face on my time piece, ridin' around my Grammys
These broke niggas so grimy, I let em' hold the steel
I tell em' shoot to kill, I put south side on my back
I ain't talkin' bout' no tat'
When I'm outta town I hold it down I mean everywhere I'm at

[Hook]

[Verse 2: Kidd Kidd]
All my niggas crazy stupid, koo koo got a loose screw
I might pew pew with that two two, then small bullets will mob through you
My bitch come from Honolulu, with that dope ball in her doo doo
Put it on a drain and shoot you, in the face, don't have a bluetooth on me
No but don't know voodoo, but I sure know how to shoot you
If I get caught I don't boo-hoo, I pick up the phone call BooBoo
He gonna bail me out in seconds, please don't let this rap shit fool you
I send shooters to your home, see I don't need know songs to move you
My gorilla goin' oo oo, boy your family could lose you
Put you in a box like new shoes, you's a bitch pull down your tu-tu
When it come to gettin' money all I know is we need bookoo's
Speakin' only in my Rida' gang, know what we gonna do to you

[Hook]

 

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Irregular Heartbeat

[Hook: 50 Cent]
Nigga, you pussy, you scared
I can hear your heartbeat
Why the f*ck would you come around here?
I can hear your heartbeat
Yeah, you know a dog sense fear
I can hear your heartbeat
You bark while we bite around here
I can hear your heartbeat

[Verse 1: 50 Cent]
We ain't cut from the same cloth, we into different shit
I want the bread, you want the bitch
Come out your mouth slick I'll get you hit
My niggas hungry, they hit a lick
F*ck who you're with, niggas'll dump a clip
We by the school yard waiting for you to get your kid
I caught a 81 felony on my last bid
Kept calm, made bond, I'm on that shit
You think my rap shit a gimmick, I ain't seen parole in a minute
Truth be told these niggas is hoes
Once the shit set off, man, anything goes
Through the windows of your soul, the eyes never lie
If you ain't scared to die, nigga, why would you cry?

[Hook]

[Verse 2: Jadakiss]
30 something and you ain't even open your mouth yet
Social media is giving cowards an outlet
See him in person, say something, I doubt that
Rather get caught with it than get caught without that
Trying to back peddle and stumble on the curve
You stayin' at the ground, you mumblin' your words
Literally I can see your heart pumpin' through your shirt
Pussy your whole life, you always been a bird
Scared for so long it's all up in your nerves
Screw 9-1-1, you probably call up the reserves
And I'm killin' you first, if we ever do a purge
And you know what it is, kid, whenever we emerge
And I'm tragical, traumatical, no match, incompatible
Nigga, you vaginal

[Hook]

[Verse 3: Kidd Kidd]
Money for bail, money to bail
Dead or in jail, Heaven or Hell
FEDs on my coat tail, snitches given court tells
Kept fate when all hope fail
Niggas rattin', all they missin' is the tail like Mickey Mouse
Call me Mickey Mantle when I bat you in the mouth
I bring them hammers out, we ain't trying to build a house
Niggas on them songs rappin' shit they ain't about
I'm from the N-O, we don't scrap, we bang it out
Bang, I'm the one that came in your house for the chickens
Left a nigga brains hangin' out like we chillin'
Stankin' like shipments, over my shillings
Hump your security, Rida gang in the building

[Hook]

 

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Hustler

Don't make this complicated (don't make it!)
My old school candy painted (for real!)
I hustle hard
When I come through they're like "Oh my God!" (THAT NIGGA CLEAN!)

[Chorus:]
From the beginning it was written I suppose
I break a whole into 36 O's - and move it
I'm a hustler baby (can you dig it?)
I'm a hustler baby
My mind on the money, I ain't trippin on the hoes
I blow a whole lot of paper on clothes - but dig it
I'm a hustler baby (can you dig it?)
I'm a hustler baby

Yeah!
I come through, I have the hoes like "Ooh-wee"
Seats in the old school Louie
The shoes and the belt buckle Louie
We don't need more details now, do we?
Let 'em sag, my swag is True Religion
You gon' need Cartier frames to see my vision
It smells like Creed mixed with weed, this is classy and hood
Drama llama time nigga what's good?
Dominos muh'f*cker, it's time to collect
Stack paper like I'm tryin to fix the national debt
I'm just doin what I wanna do, I trip through your set
This is 50 on that Muammar Gaddafi shit

[Chorus]

Get on my level bitch, I'm careful who I kick it with
We talk marketin, distribution and politics
Got a chip on my shoulder, chip off the ol' block
I sell a chip off a whole rock $10 a pop
I'm a magnet, a bitch can't help but watch me
Socks, drawers, undershirt, Versace Versace Versace
Designer threads, in every form of fashion
I express myself so the question I'm askin
Is this flip or the next flip, tailor fit the shit
We ain't promised tomorrow, a nigga gone and get the shit
That skull and bones, that Alexander McQueen thing
In case you ain't noticed, it's a Queens thing

[Chorus]

OHHH! It's cold out here
It's my kind of weather, I'm cold-blooded
It's 50, when I come through you see me, in a Suburban
In this bullet-proof, bomb-proof, leather six whatever
When I go hard I go hard
When I don't want you to see me I switch it up
I'm in that black-on-black Porsche Panamera
In the back like, ooh-wee, we rollin
I hustle man, it's what I do man
What a nigga gon', what a nigga gon' try to tell me?
How to do this?

Writer: Curtis James Jackson, Frankie Beverly
Copyright: Lyrics © Pecle Music, Universal Music Corp., 50 Cent Music

 

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Twisted

[Intro: Mr. Probz]
Here's a little info you should know
Here's a little info, info, info

[Hook: Mr. Probz]
Get the party rockin', bottles poppin'
Tonight we gon' turn up 'till we twisted, twisted, twisted
Yeah, yeah, yeah
System thumpin', the club is jumpin'
Tonight we gon' turn up 'till we twisted, twisted, twisted
Yeah, yeah, yeah

[Verse 1: 50 Cent]
Let's toast to the success and take it a little higher
May tomorrow bring you everything your heart desires
Let your driving ambitions offer you new visions
May your gut-instinct help you make good decisions
This is more than Champagne, this is more than just a glass
This is a symbol of accomplishment we rarely ever had
Let's enjoy tonight like tonight's our last
We can focus on the future and reflect on the past
We done came so far, I mean, look where we are
If they don't call us by name they call us entrepreneurs
When the block to the ballroom, the hood to the high life
Skyscraper paper, baby, life in a limelight
Want the best of the best, the top of the top
I mean the baddest bitch, you know, the cream of the crop
We gotta hustle and have it, we better than average
More like the elite, my nigga, we gotta eat

[Hook]

[Verse 2: 50 Cent]
What was once a strike against us has become an advantage
Cause we grind when we at it like we stone-cold addicts
That mastermind, that mental is oh so essential
Product of the environment, they ain't been what we've been through
I'm fond of the phrase "If there's a will, there's a way"
'Cause we come from the parts where only killas could play
Southside, it's alright, ghetto's my Alma Mater huh? It's alright
We could keep the party jumpin' like this all night
The bottles, just keep 'em coming, baby, let's get right
Let's get it on, play a little Marvin
It's gettin' hot in here, homie, this could be a problem
[?] let's keep riding to the top
Let's do it, do it big and let the f*ckin' haters watch, oh yeah
This is perfect, this a moment to remember
As we proceed on our money getting agenda

[Hook]

 

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Winners Circle

[Hook: Guordan Banks]
Are you ready to win?
Come join the winners circle
Put up your hands for me, baby
And do it like we're supposed to
Cause we're gonna win

Consider this the theme song for victory
The shit you say to yourself when you make history
I'm trying to make it feel like the first time
Like a junkie I'm sort of chasing my first high
I'm focused, I'm disciplined, I'm ready
Mentally on point, sharp as a machete
Hard work, I work hard, I get the job done
It's only one number 1, nigga, I'm number 1
I'm confident, you can call it vain or conceited
Cars, clothes, I need it
Condos, condoms and bad bitches to be with
Run with a winner, baby
Be unconventional, freak me off friends maybe
You can be my girl, be my fair weather friend
Or you could be my, yeah yeah, be my friend to the end

[Hook]

I got that disease ambition, success is the cure
They wanna win, I gotta win, I sell the shit pure
I got dopeboy bonds, Einstein brains
The heart of a nigga homicidal on the chain gang
I want yachts and drops, I got spots to watch
I wanna see what life is like from the mountain top
Who says sky's the limit? I'm limitless, I just took the pill
Why you think a nigga slow flow so ill?
Be careful, the shit I got is highly contagious
We hustle 'til it had us all locked up in cages
Time gon' fly when a nigga been busy for ages
War stories and wounds, back and forth, a nigga been trading
For the root of all evil, Lord said it's for Satan
We from the bottom, desperation cause moves that we making
I guess it's all risk versus rewards
And a nigga risk it all for the broads
What's up?

[Hook]

 

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Chase The Paper

[Hook: 50 Cent]
I'm still a rider, I'm still rolling
A nigga still hold the steel, that's how I'm owning
You chase the hoes, I chase the paper
You chase the hoes, I chase the paper
You chase the hoes, I chase the paper
You're a sucker for love, nigga, I'm money making

[Verse 1: 50 Cent]
I'm still a baller, I'm still balling
That's five times I ain't picked up, your bitch still calling
I'm super ghetto, I'm still with the shit
Still pass the steel to my nigga, hit a lick
We still mob, niggas steal stuff
We still deal after deal, shit is no problem
He still love her, she ain't shit
Get her a pair of Louboutins, she suck a dick
Still real niggas, still will kill
Told the still bitch don't squeal, get your cap peeled
The Mac filled, black talons, hollow tips
Copper-tops, get your ass popped, watch a body drop

[Hook]

[Verse 2: Kidd Kidd]
I'm clean as a motherf*cker, still getting my hands dirty
Bitches they wanna f*ck, grab a glass, you looking thirsty
See I'm a gangsta, you soft as R&B singers
I'm at a war with the banger, in the club with the shanker
Mask on, lone ranger, scope on the K, long ranger
Rather be alive and rich than die and be famous
Live my life in the fast lane, I crash into anything
I ain't here to entertain when I let them bullets sing
Rims on, Rida Gang, slap the f*ck out of you, nigga
Trying to pull out your pistol when you know that you're lame
You chasing these bitches instead of chasing your paper
Niggas taking your bitches while they taking your paper
I'm gone

[Hook]

[Verse 3: Prodigy]
She on my leg like a little kid
She hump my leg like a horny pit
Pitbull in a skirt, yeah, I'm a magnet
Now I ain't running after no broads, she stuck on my dick
I'm a different breed, blame it on my genes
Money in my jeans, pockets turn her eyes green
She's seeing dollar signs, I'm seeing reasons why
Never had to stress no pussy, I'm one of a kind
Pretty nigga with a gorgeous gun
You die a beautiful death, pull a stunt, look
There ain't a bitch more dime than me
The thirst is real, she knocking over drinks to get next to me
While you

[Hook]

[Verse 4: Styles P]
Ghetto niggas still'll pick a penny up
You outside chasing them hoes throwing your Henny up
Little homie loading a semi up
Catch him all after the club, tell him to ante up
Anyway, each and every day, I'm looking for a better way
You owe me, you better pay
Ghost, let the beretta spray
Hood want uncut dope and some better yay
I ain't chasing pussy, never have
Hustle hard, take a break, run and get some head and ass
Still robbing, still rolling, still need a mask
Still popping, still slinging, still need the cash

[Hook]

 

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The Funeral

(Deluxe Edition Bonus Track)

Boy you forgot my style

Flowers, funeral service, a kid's in the coffin
It sounds so familiar, don't it happen so often?
The shoot-out shit happens, the sister read the eulogy
Couldn't help but think, "Nigga better you than me"
Trey-eight ain't got no safety, that bullet got no name on it
But it's hard to miss when that thang got a beam on it
First shot pop off, e'rybody poppin
Shot the glass at the store front, we forgot God was watchin
Run run, hit the gate, D's yellin "Drop it"
Niggaz gettin jammed up; better that than a jammed-up
His momma said a few words to her, "He was innocent"
She might've heard he did some shit but never saw no benefits
So in her eyes, he's mommy's lil' baby
But he was outside, talkin to niggaz crazy
In a room full of people came to pay their respect
I just came to get a close look at a nigga to check
That nigga dead as a doorknob, stiff as a nail
And my man, tomorrow he gon' get out of jail
R.O.R., trust me nigga I know the law
Released on your Own Recognizance - that bullshit I'm on it
That's his first taste - I mean his first case
Got knocked with the strap - but not the one that clapped
This nigga here we still got that, yeah
The first law in my hood is show no fear
Him and love was closer than we thought, that nigga in here cryin
Oh shit, in the store he probably passed him the iron
These some grimy ass niggaz, full-breed vultures
Tryin to come up, still eatin around roaches
Cookie Crisp, Cap'n Crunch, breakfast of the champions
Lucky Charms, stay armed, and niggaz won't clap you then
We watch the side bitch talk like she his main bitch
His wifey just sat there, preachers wasn't sayin shit
Right jab, left hook, hand full of weave
This type shit a nigga got to see to believe
These bitches actin up in here, police they don't f*ckin care
Homicide snoop around to them, we all with the shit
Cousin back from college sayin he gon' get who did this shit
He a ball player nigga, nigga better play ball
You play with the wrong niggaz we gon' get to lettin off
I done seen enough, feel like it's time for me to split
Hit the parkin lot and chill where the weed is lit
Twist the cap, pour out a little liquor
All the theatrics, you know, like that was my nigga
We all can't win, some of us gotta lose
Envision a lil' dog barkin at a pack of wolves
Cause that's what happened; yeah yeah, that's what happened
He just went on and on 'til niggaz started attackin
Actin like he was the only motherf*cker packin

Fifty bars of pleasure, fifty bars of pain
When I'm dead and I'm gone niggaz will remember the name
It's 50... yeah, yeah
Fifty bars of pleasure, fifty bars of pain
When I'm dead and I'm gone niggaz will remember the name
It's 50... yeah, yeah, haha

 

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You Know

(Deluxe Edition Bonus Track)

See low we know
I'm sitting on leather I'm a winner
If I crap out the strap out
Cause I snap right back to the beginning nigga

[Hook:]
You know I will let it pop front if you want bitch I will make it hot
You (rrr) know you think you ill but you not
You will need a tombstone you will need a plot (yeah)

I peep what niggas hate through my peripherals
Boy if I leave this club back to the car I got some shit for you
Want party? We can paint the town red
Them bottles ain't shit to me a nigga got bread
I'm big money big business I love it
For the bad bitches with big asses and the budgets I'm the boss
Until you know shit is going how it got to go
I don't want talk tonight I might just buy the hoes
My pleasure principle spender's expense
First I'm happy then she happy then she can pay the rent
It's nothing to a nigga when he up
But when they down I bet you he won't give up at your bump
Flipping will catch your attitude 'like bitch what the f*ck you want from a nigga huh?, you f*cking up nigga huh?'
Look girl you know you sitting on a gold mine
F*ck with them other niggas think you so fine

[Hook x2]

My flow hotter than the gun after that clip done
Don't care about the sit you claim mother f*ck the finger bang
I hang around with hustlers and hoodlums that party get the popping
Then we beefing and we shooting
Let's party like it's 1999 flat top [?]
Swag going back in time
I got it locked they can't ignore it
My nigga know some bullshit I'm all for it
[?] Don seven sixty leaning
Chrome clean spend a nigga scheming trying to hit a lick
Them victim niggas thinking damn why me
I'm thinking why these niggas never try me
Maybe they feel the vibe they know a nigga lie
I let it off inside and outside
The club rocking it's on tonight
Them bottle's popping we getting right

[Hook]

 

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Flip On You

(Deluxe Edition Bonus Track)

[Intro: 50 Cent]
50, uh
Schoolboy Q
Haha

[Hook: 50 Cent & Schoolboy Q]
Smiling...?
Nigga you gon' make me Flip On You!
You gon' make me flip this knife out do some shit to you!
Nigga you gon' make me Flip On You!
Nigga you gon' make me-you gon' make me Flip On You!
Nigga you gon' make me Flip On You!
You gon make me pull the strap out, do some shit to you!
Nigga you gon' make me Flip On You!
Nigga you ain't gon' be moving when this clip is through!

[Verse 1: Schoolboy Q]
Nigga, I'm the one that bought all them bitches out
Got a G-A-T this MVP don't run his mouth, nigga
You gon' make me fill this clip for you
You gon' make me unload then reload 'em number 2
Nigga, I've been known to get them Oxys off
I believe in God, but cross my heart this knock go off
Nigga, I'm from the Mecca of the Groove
The Hoover Crip, I grew up on Figg I had to dodge them County Blues
Live my life behind the rules
Running from the cops, smash the rocks up under my shoes
Spit out the eighth that once, hid in my face
Bounce spring over the gate, didn't get caught
I guess my escape, nigga was fate
I love the block and all the dogs that kept me safe
Now it's, back to adding, points to the crime rate
Get slumped in your drive way
You gon' make me hurt your boy
You gon' make me put that work in boy
You gon' make me get to murkin' boy

[Hook]

[Verse 2: 50 Cent]
Focus on money, I'm in and out ass fast
She loosen up against the wall like a NASCAR crash
Got a bunch of enemies, I count my friends on one hand
Ghetto philosophy, watch me, I got a hundred scams
Like we could make a few dollars, that there a hundred grams
I got a gift, I communicate with the afterlife
Apparently, your bitch ass ain't acting right
Niggas killed your man, you ain't gon' get him back?
What? You is tired out? Why you ain't get around to that?
[?] I travel, I have a destination
I'll be a street legend new version of Pappy Mason
My style? It'll never die, boy I'm a model
You shoot me down, I'll get back up and keep coming for you
Man on fire, hitman for hire
Them niggas got happy they thought I was gon' retire
Now they bitch giving me head, I'm the man, a man admires
What's up?

[Hook]
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Back to: 50 Cent Lyrics


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