"50 Bodies" lyrics - TERMANOLOGY

TERMANOLOGY
"50 Bodies"

It goes one bar, Two bar, Three bar, Four
Five bar, Six bar, Seven bar more
38 Special in the all black car, it's around 2 O Clock we bangin the Marly Marl
Done like 50 shows for like 50 different rates
Fuck with 50 hoes in like 50 different states
I made 50 G's by the age of 18, Spent it all on kicks and Clips for the Regime
And you know my child support like 50 a week, So I had to hit the spot get 50 a leak
Told the Kudi's on the corner it was 50 a piece, till the spot got raided by 50 police
And they know I got, 50 Pow's, and 50 Cow's, sittin on 50 Thousand, Facin like 50 trials
And I'm on the low, movin these 50 pounds, cuz these NY cops will hit you with 50 rounds
And I bin around, hustlin with the haze, no cuffin I'm a get paid, I'm stuffin em like grenades
It's the green and brown, puffin until the grave, this smugglin shit is craze, but someone gotta be brave
And fuck your company in like 50 different ways, how you justify givin niggas 50 cent a raise
So what, I'd rather hustle till it gets me in the grave, I stay, Fillin them bags like chrissy on the stage
And I'm crispy with the J's, catch me with the grapes, spend 50 on the shades, 250 on the bapes
Five 0 see my face try to trick me out of state, try to frisk me at the gate, but the shit was on the way
So your boys out, buck fifty on the jakes, in a high speed chase never hittin on the brakes
Call my man Banks, told him meet me at the spot, yo you gotta hold the hammer cuz I think im gettin hot
I'm a sneak up on the block, creep up in the lex, make sure you tell the bookie I put 50 on the Jets
I'ma hit you in a sec, passin by the Jec's, see my man lil john he got hook ups on the texts
For a 100 dollar bill you can meet him at his Rest, He'll hit you with two bags that'll hit you in the chest
Where they pitchin on the steps, pissin in the street, chop it cut it down till it's 50 on a key
So you got some red monkeys you sittin on a G, them thousand dollar jeans don't make you a G
So thats 50 pair of jeans you traded for 50 G's, could of had a bank account and a whip an a V
Take a look at me, who's the real victom you see, I probably could have wrote a book by the age of 23
Fuck the judge with his bullshit victom witness fee, talkin bout you sick of me
Homie I'm sick of you, I'll hit you with a clip or two and fuckin cripple you
Pass the Hennessy dog I need a sip or two