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50 Cent – Double Up

Исполнители: 50 Cent
Альбомы: 50 Cent – The Lost Tape
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Текст 50 Cent – Double Up

Текст:

It is what it is, son, niggas can’t stand it
It’s my fifth lap, a nigga been round and round the planet
Shorty saying «Welcome to Miami.» Her friends saying welcome to Miami.
Jet Skis, the yacht, parked in the back yard

Back to back Porsches and niggas go down hard
I love money, nigga this drug money
Laundromat, spin cycle, nickel snub money
Beef nothing to a nigga, nigga I’m PUFF
Throw 100 racks on a bitch, I told you she want me
If I want the hoe, I get the hoe, fuck the hoe and forget the hoe
Let a ho be a ho, play the pimp, pay the rent
I’m a fly nigga on a off day I ride fly shit
Presidential rolling nigga tell me now can you bite down
I’m the biggest nigga Southside seen since Fat Cat
I tell a nigga suck a dick quick cause I’m strapped back

I make a double up, few blocks of raw
I-I-I get it, I got to get more
I make it double up, baking soda galore
Till we in Bentleys and mansions with marble on the floor
I make it double up

Ey, bring me that pyrex, get the baking soda, the ice,
I’ll show you how you do this shit, you think I don’t know what I’m doing but I know what I’m doin

Hayes:
We on the other side of the border chilling with Drug Lords
Tryna put an order in during the drug wars
J said this what happens when you disrespect one of us
And cut a motherfucker head off right in front of us
That’s when I said I’m going back to Cali. My man said he goin’ back to Cali.
I know some Mexicans in Arizona, I’m cool with
I’d rather slang that then come and deal with this bullshit.

‘Cause I ain’t gonna budge Pay me a dodgie dog, it ain’t no love
Niggas know who they owe, my number ain’t change, bitch
Front door service, put one in your brain quick
Could have put it right in your chest, close range shit
Watch you die slow, let you know who you playin with
Fuck all that swearing to God, promise and prayin shit
I ain’t the big sob story, fam, I’m spraying shit
Twelve gauge AR15, AK an shit
Passenger seats goin’ get killed, I’m saying this
Principals, we don’t drown a line at drug dealin
We criminals, we goin all out
Before I say you played me I’ll go in your house
And get killed there, blow your fucking brains out
You gotta bring ass to get some, you gotta make cash to spend some
And I ain’t a victim, motherfucker.

Альбом

50 Cent – The Lost Tape