In the bible it says, what goes around, comes around, almost shot me, three weeks later he got shot down. Now it’s clear that I’m here, for a real reason. ‘Cause he got hit like I got hit, but he ain’t fucking breathing
Do you trust me enough, to tell me your dreams? I’m staring at ya’ trying to figure how you got in them jeans. If I was down would you say things to make me smile? I treat you how you want to be treated just teach me how. If I was with some other chick and someone happened to see? And when you asked me about it I said it wasn’t me. Would you believe me? Or up and leave me? How deep is our bond if that’s all it takes for you to be gone? We only humans girl we make mistakes, to make it up I do whatever it take. I love you like a fat kid love cake. You know my style I say anything to make you smile
You’s a pop tart sweetheart, you soft in the middle / I eat you for breakfast, the watch was exchanged for your necklace
Picture a perfect picture, picture me in the paper/Picture me starting shit, picture me busting my gat/Picture police man dey ain’t gotta picture of that/Picture me being broke, picture me smokin’ a sack/Picture me comin’ up, picture me rich from rap/Picture me blowin’ up, now picture me going back/To my momma basement to live, shit, picture that/Where I’m from its a fact, you gotta watch your back/You wear a vest without a gat, you’s a target jack/Hastle hard, money stack, sell that dope, sell that crack/Sell that pack, sell that gat, sell that pussy, crew are back/50 Cent, too much spent? Man I’m bent, I’m outta here
If you watch how I move you’ll mistake me for a player or pimp. Been hit wit a few shells but I don’t walk wit a limp. In the hood then the ladies saying “50 you hot”. They like me, I want them to love me like they love ‘Pac. But holla in New York them ni**as’ll tell ya I’m loco. And the plan is to put the rap game in a choke hold.
I don’t say only God can judge me, ’cause I see things clear. Quick these crackers will give my black ass a hundred years.
I’ve been patiently waiting for a track to explode on. You can stun if you want and your ass will get rolled on. It feels like my flows been hot for so long. If you thinking I’m fucking fall off your so wrong.
I grew up without my pops should that make me bitter? I caught cases I copped out does that make me a quitter?
I sit back, twist the best bud, burn and wonder. When gangstas bump my shit, can they hear my hunger? When the 5th kick, duck quick, it sounds like thunder. In December I’ll make your block feel like summer
They say I walk around like got an S on my chest. Naw, that’s a semi-auto, and a vest on my chest.