This is a song about "50 cent"

Six-fifty, three hundred my shirt free

Ju 52 cent sun i boni

Still dreaming up ways to help you niggas die quicker

And then send that bitch 50 yards like a kicker,

Young strugglersracing the clockain't no telling when it all can end

Squeezin' a dollar from a dime when i haven't a single cent

Pockets filled with a lot of lint, not a cent

Roll the whole mountain, now i’m on the couch bent

And then send that bitch 50 yards like a kicker,

"contemplate", i wrote about her

It can fit like 50 gallons fool

I call that shit that middle school

As: they will be so surprised

Leaving 50 ton ships fucken capsized

Then let that arm & hammer, hammer it right to a lot

Going to her concert payin for tickets at 50 bucks a pop,