This is a song about "50 cent g unit fags"

Master, bubba, and lemon g,

And you are you too, but bitch i'm three

50 cent jay em was good ask me 2 pac was the real hood

Got a little too much confidence and seem shook

The watch cost me 2; your bitch, free

Ju 52 cent sun i boni

With a fronted silent g.

Cause time is money

Made by sissies, fags and minions

Weight stand out like pimples and cold-sore lips

Pockets filled with a lot of lint, not a cent

Digital ten, shit get critical friend

I done put them percs down, think i'm 'bout to relapse

Killin' wack rappers, backstabbin' backpacker fags

Ever wonder exactly where the sun goes

Your raps have a limp like the 50 cent hoes