50 Cent Hold On

50 Cent Hold On FOTO

50 Cent Hold On LETRA

50 Cent]

I woke up this morning, this is insane

Rich as a motherfucker and ain't much change

Open my eyes, no suprise, I'm with a different bitch

Different day, different ass, different tits

Strap under my pillow, I don't want legit

I'm not supposed to do this shit but I forget

The true principles of life are supply and demand

Guess if you never sold dope it's hard to understand

My man got knowledge of self, at my back God

Find out today's mathematics when that Mac go off

My temper volatile, grew up a violent child

Fuck a boy scout - I air yo' ass out

Nigga nice chain, dice game, try your luck

Shoot a couple head cracks, leave you while you up

I'm a fly nigga, my denim vintage

Gold medal 'round my neck like I won the Olympics

[Chorus]

We came from nothin, now they sayin we straight

Nigga hold up, hold on...

Hold on...

These niggaz they watchin every dime we make

Hold up, hold on...

Hold on...

[over Chorus]

You got that?

Let Yayo hold the strap son, it's cool

We got bail money, whatever

Y'all niggaz gotta chill

Just be cool about this shit, relax

[50 Cent]

We want that deluxe apartment in the sky with a clear view

Instead we get the D's in the rear view

We learn to play the game how it's supposed to be played

And so you know you violate you supposed to be sprayed

It's not a big deal to me, stay calm

I'll shoot the shit out a nigga then call the barrel Bonds

If I don't do this shit myself, bet I'll get it done

Shit on my nigga, you shit on me, we are one

Used to do graffiti, now look, we major

Don't make me write my name 'cross your face with a razor

Re-up, new joke, they said this sample the bomb

This shit can take a two then we cut the bitch with a one, uhh

Watch the fiends stand in line for the potency

No lactose involved, pure cocoa leaf

You can sniff that or cook that to my belief

That money comin in like we run the streets

[Chorus]

[over Chorus]

That's a bet

Find my form better

Nigga you got a gamblin problem

I'm winnin, you losin

You got the gamblin problem

Yeah... yeah

What's up? What we doin?

[50 Cent]

This shit go how I say it go when it's time to expand

So say it's over your dead body and that's the plan

You a gangster for real, you ready to ride

Nigga you gon' die a bad case of too-much-pride

Check my Dna, homie I'm a different kind

Hit the speed dial that quick, I'll get ya lined

Won't want your block, just cop the work from us

Them niggaz you call allies can't be trust

That Roley all gold, I got the Midas touch

Sometimes it's hard as hell not to touch stuff

On the phone I heard Yay' smacked the shit out a kid

Now Jimmy got life, go smack him again

When it's war, it will be war to the bitter end

If they ever say we lose, I start it again

That sneaky nigga sprayed that semi at yo' momma crib

With a silencer, we couldn't even hear the shit

[Chorus]

[over Chorus]

I don't fuck with them

Pssh, man, these niggaz is roaches man

Dirty ass niggaz

Boy you better be easy

I ain't playin wit'chu boy

Boy you must've bumped yo' motherfuckin head or somethin boy

I don't give a fuck about that old school shit

You talkin 'bout you got me fucked up nigga

Yeah...