ever did in New York was die That's all I ever did in L.A. was die So put em' up, put em' up to the sky And wave goodbye to Miss American Pie Cuz you
ay my ikcd-ay, 'scuse my igp-ay atinl-ay But uckf-ay you igp-ay [Chorus: 50 Cent {*sung*}] This rap game, this rap game I ain't sellin' my soul for this
half a mil' Whether off or on the chart, my cuts grips your heart (You know we got you open) like your gut splits apart I never pass the buck, my shoulder
this way still tellin ucks-lay, icks-bay my ick-day excuses my ick-pay ademlay uck-fay ick pay. (50 cent) Chorus 1 this rap game this rap game i aint selling my
ride a bike. (How to ride a bike without training wheels) And he's my best friend, he's my only friend. Cause he's there when I need him. My Invisdabul
It can't be a coincidence that my last attempt to speak to you is through a hip hop format ? the thing that started us talking way back in '98. The mormon
use one anyway To make sure the ladies hear what I say And from here to there they hear my voice The ladies hear me, I am their choice Because my hair
I ever did in New York was die That's all I ever did in L.A. was die So put em' up, put em' up to the sky And wave goodbye to Miss American Pie Cuz you
way still tellin ucks-lay, icks-bay my ick-day excuses my ick-pay ademlay uck-fay ick pay. (50 cent) Chorus 1 this rap game this rap game i aint selling my
a look of defeat? I feel the end is near my little Monday night whore, My little Saturday night became a Sunday remorse. And it's all over America, The