50 sold 11 mill, bought Tyson house.
and mine too, cross dude, and the knife come out.
i can't wait to see you pricks on the side stretch
bunch of holes in you like the bricks in the projects
kevlar whips, rubber grips for the non sense.
conscious of the consequences obnoxious.
and we can ride all night, somebody big come get him
they tied his bandana on too tight
you can book me short notice, i'mma sell out in the night
the car won't get me there, but the helicopter might
i bring all the toys out, let the click go shit, the whips so new, even the bird shit don't stick.
i got a hell of a system, the sound travel three blocks.
bulletproof doors, and all-you-can-eat tops.
running up to me, will only lead to funerals.
i button all your niggas up, like Jay-Z
i smoke for free, when i'm out in DC
VVS is in my ear, clearer than HD
i don't why he walks around with my logo, he ain't me
bragging about the millions of dollars he ain't see
give me ammo and a jammie,
my hand holding the grammy.
2 cribs, that's why i shipped the lambo to miami
please, i ain't tryna be in the jam over the panties
they love em, when i leave em for the very same reason
one nigga started, a couple niggas followed, now they all can't eat like the next top model.
New York City boy but they love me in Chicago,
a lil more in Philly from here to Atlantic City.
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