Letras:
Paris It S Real

got a clue, damn, it's a trip How them devil-ass labels put everything they got in that shit But they never push anything real for the good of the community It

the belly of the beast And still the same nigga That was hollerin': "Fuck peace!" But check it out, it's the same old thing Cause now the year's 94 And

don't know Where I've been for the past few years or so Paris to China to Col-or-ado Sometimes there's airplanes I can't jump out Sometimes it's bullshit

to my gold chain anywhere i go i keep it hood i Never change if it aint got it in my lap i got it stashed in the range [pow pow] I'm gettin bread on

it's on, up and down she like to ride on top Fast, prayin that the condom pop That's foul, but fuck it it's all hood to me Now Hollywood's been real

ya mouth, Jack! {50 Cent! } [50 Cent:] I said I'm 'bout it, 'bout it! - I'm 'bout it, 'bout it! I push the coupey you see in books a crowd around it.

than i had ever won and honestly i ended up with none there's no much nonsense it's on my conscience i'm thinking baby i should get it out and i don't

fuck When I do it let's do it every time we gettin to it yeah yeah we gettin to it Clownz and the kings we back at it again You know we dippin again So

you, it's just bound to make you embarrassed. Sheiks walkin' around like kings, wearing fancy jewels and nose rings, Deciding America's future from Amsterdam and to Paris