Album: 50 Cent Is The Future (With G-Unit) (2004)
[50 Cent]
Yea, F-50
[Chorus - 50 Cent]
As times go by, I twist a lot
F*ck with me & my niggas, somebody going to die
You think I am all poinry, cause you see me gettin´ high
But my knife, I will have yo ass seein´ out one eye
As times go by, I twist a lot
F*ck with me & my niggas, somebody going to die
You think I am all poinry, cause you see me gettin´ high (yea)
But my knife, I will have yo ass seein´ out one eye
[Verse 1 - Tony Yayo]
740 I, with the brand new shake (uh huh)
Got me pissin´ on hoes like the R. Kelly tape
If you see me in the club, nothin´ but Cris poppin´ (yea)
See me in court, my lawyers plea bargainin´ (woo)
Tryin´ to turn a 3 to 6, to a 2 to 4 (uh huh)
Or 1 to 3, for an extra G
RIP to Etho, I miss Hevo
When I die, I hope heaven look like the ghetto (yea)
Picture me trick, & take a loss
I am cheap like the Chinese man with duck sauce
This Tony homey, I walk around with a big chrome
9 L´s will hit ya passenger, hit ya driver
G-Unit, you do not know a f*ckin´ clique liver
(You heard my nigga, you do not know a f*ckin´ clique liver)
[Chorus]
As times go by, I twist a lot
F*ck with me & my niggas, somebody going to die (yea)
You think I am all poinry, cause you see me gettin´ high (uh huh)
But my knife, I will have yo ass seein´ out one eye (eye)
As times go by, I twist a lot
F*ck with me & my niggas, somebody going to die
You think I am all poinry, cause you see me gettin´ high
But my knife, I will have yo ass seein´ out one eye
[Verse 2 - Tony Yayo]
I never mix money & product with my friends (uh huh)
These chips, make relationships come to an end (what)
I pull the graveyard shift, gettin´ money non-stop (uh huh)
And been on the block, ever since bunny tops (come on)
250 grizzies, scrape the plate (scrape that plate)
Got me on 750´s straight from the plate (straight from the plate)
You can call on your soldiers, call your recruits (uh huh)
I do you dirty like Raheem did Dirty is "Juice" (Juice)
Allow myself, to introduce myself
This is Tony, the talk of New York, I am holdin´ the belt
I got thug in my blood (blood), game like a pimp (pimp)
And wrote my 1st verse, takin´ baths in the sink (yea)
And yo I fear no man son, I never heard of a fair one
Never have got to borrow a handgun
Niggas on the street, gettin´ smoked like bran son
So I stay dirty like "Sanford & Son" (yea)
Groupies gossipin´ stay runnin´ their lips (woo)
Cause they seen the Gucci seats in the 6 (uh huh)
And seen the Fendi grips on the four 5th (what)
Shit, I sell bricks, shit, I sell shit on a stick (stick)
Enough of the talkin´, let´s take it to the valance (uh huh)
The New York streets, will leave you physically challenged (challenged)
Don´t be surprised, If I spit at you
Then come to your wake, & serve fiends at your funeral
Our bread is goin´ towards a brick of dope
Cause I have been goin´ hand & hand since "Different Strokes"
I am a 50, an 8th, you a half a blunt
You the nigga in the mirror that practice stunts
WHAT!
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