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    50 Cent / Lyrics

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    "Poor Lil' Rich" Lyrics

    50 Cent

    (Verse 1)
    I let my watch talk for me, my whip talk for me
    My gat talk for me, BOW! What up homie
    My watch saying hi shorty we can be friends
    My whip saying quit playing bitch get in
    My earring saying we can hit the mall together
    Shorty its only right that we ball together
    I'm into bigger things ya niggaz ya know my style
    Ya wrist bling bling, my shit bling blow
    My pinky ring talk it say fifty I'm sick
    That's why these niggaz is on my dick
    Some hate me, some love my hits

    Flex my man he gon bump my shit
    See I'm alive man I really don't care
    I tell them hoes whatever they wanna hear
    You try and play me I'ma blaze it in
    My chromes cost more than the crib ya momma raised ya in

    (Chorus: repeat 2x)
    I was a poor nigga
    Now I'm a rich nigga
    Getting paper now you can't tell me shit nigga
    You can find me in the fo' dot six nigga
    In the backseat fondling ya bitch nigga

    (Verse 2)
    New York niggaz, copy niggaz like it's all good
    Fuck around we crip-walking in the wrong hood
    I'm fresh up out the slammer, I ain't no fucking bama
    I'm from the wild whody, but I know country grammar

    See me I get it crunk, niggaz go head and front
    I go up out the trunk, come back, rollout I'm done (yeah)
    My money come in lumps, my pockets got the mumps
    You see me sitting on dubs, that's why u mad chump
    Don't make me hit ya up, 50 cent will split ya up
    I lay you down, them carnids will come and get ya up
    See 50 play fa keeps, and 50 stay wit heat
    I can't go commercial, they love me in the street
    I'm real bloody man, the hood love me man
    Don't make me show up in ya crib like bro-man
    Locked up in a pen, I still do my thing
    C-O screaming shut the fuck up in the pen

    Chorus (2x)

    I'm in the Benz on Monday, the BM on Tuesday
    Range on Wednesday, Thursday I'm in the hooptay
    Porsche on Friday, I do things my way
    Vipe or Vette, I tear up the highway
    Shorty she can tell ya about my dick game
    But she don't know me, she only know my nickname
    Left the hood and came back, damn shit changed
    These young boys, they done got they own work man

    Chorus (2x)
    This song was last modified on November 28th, 2016.
    Copyright with Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Universal Music Publishing Group.
    Written by Michael J. Clervoix, Curtis James Jackson.
    Lyrics licensed by LyricFind.

    Song Details

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