Woorden: 50 Cent. Otras Canciones. All About Dough Freestyle.
:
[Chorus:]
Winter, Spring, Summer, Fall, we out though, we out though
Cocaine, heroin, we 'bout dough, we 'bout dough
Cops coming, we runnin', we out yo, we out yo
Fuck you thought we was trickin', get out ho, get out ho
[Verse 1: 50 Cent]
I smile when that money come, stunt when that money come
Niggas front when that money come, and I'm a have to handle them
Man I don't trust none of them, why they bringin' and come with them,
Why they come in a cop, fuck around and get shot
I wanna cold blood nigga shit I will pull a trigger 'cause
You'd better do your homework you'll find out who you fucking with
'Cause I ain't full of s-cker shit, I'm joking no Chris Tucker shit
I ain't even smilin', I'm a 'bout to start wylin'
I got bricks of that Peruvian
A though face medicine, sniff that in doughs, that's a dope fiends regimen
Range Rover, game over, I'm getting my lean on
Hard to miss my target when I done click the beam on
I'm not the one to scheme on you, pussy niggas dream on
I give the work, fuck what ya heard, homeboy you gettin' shot
I'm out here with my chain on, my watch and pinky ring on
I hustle hard for this shit take a look at what I got
[Chorus:]
Winter, Spring, Summer, Fall, we out though, we out though
Cocaine, heroin, we 'bout dough, we 'bout dough
Cops coming, we runnin', we out yo, we out yo
Fuck you thought we was trickin', get out ho, get out ho
[Verse 2: 50 Cent]
It's the same old, same old, extra clips, hollow tips
Niggas ain't playin' yo, we still on that gangsta shit
That block mine, find out when my Glock 9, pop
I'm surrounded by shooters, so I ain't got to shoot it
You niggas on computers better sit there and compute it
Dodge what I just said, or get shot and left for dead
You think you don't give a fuck nigga, I don't give a fuck
I pistol whip your ass down, watch your homies pick you up
I got 2 million cash, that's my brown bag money
Think maybe that's why niggas'll just fire mags for me
It's the telephone game, I done heard through the grape vine
Niggas talk crazy until the holows start firin'
[Chorus]
[Outro:]
Yeah, this is what it sound like when I'm rockin' four in the morning
Shit slow down, I'm just fucking with you
I'm ghetto, I'm ghetto like a motherfucker, ha ha
Eh, a niggas calls object, call some bitches man
I'm finna have some bitches come over here
Oh my God, this is the life
Eh nigga I tell you, my bank account bring goose bumps on your motherfucking bank
G-g-g-g-unit!
[Chorus:]
Winter, Spring, Summer, Fall, we out though, we out though
Cocaine, heroin, we 'bout dough, we 'bout dough
Cops coming, we runnin', we out yo, we out yo
Fuck you thought we was trickin', get out ho, get out ho
[Verse 1: 50 Cent]
I smile when that money come, stunt when that money come
Niggas front when that money come, and I'm a have to handle them
Man I don't trust none of them, why they bringin' and come with them,
Why they come in a cop, fuck around and get shot
I wanna cold blood nigga shit I will pull a trigger 'cause
You'd better do your homework you'll find out who you fucking with
'Cause I ain't full of s-cker shit, I'm joking no Chris Tucker shit
I ain't even smilin', I'm a 'bout to start wylin'
I got bricks of that Peruvian
A though face medicine, sniff that in doughs, that's a dope fiends regimen
Range Rover, game over, I'm getting my lean on
Hard to miss my target when I done click the beam on
I'm not the one to scheme on you, pussy niggas dream on
I give the work, fuck what ya heard, homeboy you gettin' shot
I'm out here with my chain on, my watch and pinky ring on
I hustle hard for this shit take a look at what I got
[Chorus:]
Winter, Spring, Summer, Fall, we out though, we out though
Cocaine, heroin, we 'bout dough, we 'bout dough
Cops coming, we runnin', we out yo, we out yo
Fuck you thought we was trickin', get out ho, get out ho
[Verse 2: 50 Cent]
It's the same old, same old, extra clips, hollow tips
Niggas ain't playin' yo, we still on that gangsta shit
That block mine, find out when my Glock 9, pop
I'm surrounded by shooters, so I ain't got to shoot it
You niggas on computers better sit there and compute it
Dodge what I just said, or get shot and left for dead
You think you don't give a fuck nigga, I don't give a fuck
I pistol whip your ass down, watch your homies pick you up
I got 2 million cash, that's my brown bag money
Think maybe that's why niggas'll just fire mags for me
It's the telephone game, I done heard through the grape vine
Niggas talk crazy until the holows start firin'
[Chorus]
[Outro:]
Yeah, this is what it sound like when I'm rockin' four in the morning
Shit slow down, I'm just fucking with you
I'm ghetto, I'm ghetto like a motherfucker, ha ha
Eh, a niggas calls object, call some bitches man
I'm finna have some bitches come over here
Oh my God, this is the life
Eh nigga I tell you, my bank account bring goose bumps on your motherfucking bank
G-g-g-g-unit!
50 Cent
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