This is a song about "50 cent the fagit"

Done with the corny rhymes

If i could have 25 wives

We hustle to survive

Hit em with the bomb rhymes

Put a rubber on the .50 and make you suck the bullet out

But it don't feel half as good as grandma saying she's proud

Rob you on the street with the nine

Okay i’m lying, but i’m trying

And them hating ass niggas, we ain’t like those

Your raps have a limp like the 50 cent hoes

Funny how money, chains and whips make me feel free

And maybe 50 cent can be put to tht category

I tell them killers they ain't figure what they fightin' for

You got a pic of 50 cent and your a wack talker

Uh, this what's been on my mind

Leaving 50 ton ships fucken capsized