Album: Everytime I Come Around
Автор Слов: S. Lang, C. Jackson, C. Stewart, R. Facchinetti, V. Negrini
Featured_artist: Kidd Kidd, Performer: Steve Alien [Producer], Eif Rivera [Video Director], Curtis "50 Cent" Jackson [Video Producer], Composer: S. Lang, C. Jackson, C. Stewart, R. Facchinetti, V. Negrini, Author: S. Lang, C. Jackson, C. Stewart, R. Facchinetti, V. Negrini
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[Intro: 50 Cent]
NY, NY till I die,
NY, NY till I die.
NY, NY!
[Chorus: 50 Cent]
I'm on it.
Everytime I come around, me, I keep my gun around,
It's never on safety.
I'm on it.
N**gas know when I'm around, fuck around, it's goin' down,
No if's or maybe's.
Okay, ring around the rosies, pockets full of oz's,
N**gas gettin' cake made, yeah!
Okay, fuck with the homies while I got it on me,
You'll get your big break, man.
[Verse 1: 50 Cent]
You n**gas ain't seen shit yet, one false move and I click-clack,
That oo-wop, bitch, I 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 ten mil my last check.
Bitches stay where that cash at, diamonds on me, I flash that,
That ‘Rari pedal, I mash that, you pussy n**gas, I laugh at.
That fuck shit that you fuck n**gas be doin', man, I'm passed that,
Hood n**ga down there on Wall Street, my stock run across NASDAQ.
Girl face on my time piece, ridin' around with my crimeys,
These broke n**gas 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.
[Chorus]
[Verse 2: Kidd Kidd]
All my n**gas crazy, stupid, cuckoo, 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 train and choo-choo, and the feds don't have a blues clues.
Thumbin' over, 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 no songs to move you.
My gorilla goin' ooh-ooh, boy, your family could lose you,
Put you in a box like new shoes, you's a bitch, pull down your tutu,
When it come to gettin' money, all I know is we need beaucoup,
Speakin' only in my Ryda Gang, know what we gon' do to you.
[Chorus]
