Текст 50 Cent – Stretch

Chorus:
I take grams of coke,
Mix it with lactose, that’s what I do!
Streeetcchh…

Verse 1:
Your favorite bad guys gone! — The Joker’s dead!
So for now till forever your stuck with the kid.
I ain’t supposed to be a boss, I’m supposed to be a enforcer!
I’m supposed to hold a gun, not be stuck in the office!
Michael pimped me? — I was in the passenger seat
We was comfortable with me round, cause I blast my heat!
Now I’m four? I was? tryna catch Mason for bricks raw
Charlie fucked up the jux they took ? lil’ boy, Streeetcchh!
The cocaine I go hard when the drought come
When the straps come out son niggaz know the outcome!
Lay low stay low you may see Jesus!
You hit with a stray yo for no fuckin’ reason.
You prayin’ for a Benz, it’s a blessin’ you breathin’
It’s a miracle that God gave me this tech now I’m eatin’!
Cop it! Chop it! Profit is off the set
Cocaine, candy rain, I’m so for real! — Yeah!

Chorus

Verse 2:
I’m the dopeman! Cokeman! Smoke man! Whatever-man!
The X-man! Tec-man! You better respect man!
Get the green, triple beam, inf’ beam, murder scheme
Fiend, morphine, dream, codiene, more lean!
Gun pop! One shot! — Body drop, it wasn’t me!
Tell the cops it wasn’t me! — You saw me right? — It wasn’t me!
It’s not my M.O see me I make it streeetcchh
Get in the way I put a body on my Teeec!
Call me crazy; I die for what I stand for
I have ammo! Flyin’ out the Lambo’!
Like Commando, nah like Rambo!
I keep my cool as long as the fuckin’ grams go!
Wooptee-woo, I’m a Chef like Wright
It’s hot in here, I’m by the stove cookin’ crack all day, streeetcchh!
We gon’ bag up all night
We ain’ goin’ nowhere ’til the count bag right! — Yeah!

Chorus

Verse 3:
It’s a bird, it’s a plane! No, it’s purple ‘caine!
Tryna blow sellin’ blow I’m who you fuck with mayne!
I got Spiderman high, I made Batman fly!
Your favorite hero took a hit! — Now here you try!
I don’t care if it’s a sin! I don’t care if you’re ten!
Look around kid! — It’s a cold world where in!
If you ask me my offer is extremely handsome,
A little Charlie, Marley, a little bit of Manson!
Yeaah! — Me fallin’-off? It’s really far feeetcchhed!
I turn a little to a lot I make it streeetcchh!
Then come the Franklyns! — Then come the Benji’s!
Fiends by the crackhouse! — Dirty and dengy! — Yeah!

Chorus