50 Cent - Financial Freedom lyrics

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50 Cent - Financial Freedom lyrics

[Verse 1] n***a, this is not a fictional tale, this sh** real Who’s sittin’ in the Bookings? Charged, direct sale Third shootout… who was fightin’ for positions? Shell casings out my 9 flyin’ through your mama kitchen Paper we stack it, yeah, pistols we pack it You f** around, we’ll blow your heart out the back of your jacket b**h, get down or lay down, my work is that chach ‘Cause he got big, now he lieutenant so he sit there and watch I swear to God I think I had the same vision that K had Woke up sayin’ “we gon’ turn them corners to Baghdad” Yeah, we was young, but we had guns, we started juxing n***as All you hear is Boo-Boo f**in’ with them Brooklyn n***as I had supreme schemes, call it Wall thoughts Start shootin’, I bet I’ll clear off the ball court I want it all, that’s just how I f**in’ feel, boy Get in the way, you gon’ take you a trip to Deramores [Hook] I’m dreamin’ of… My dream of freedom… Financial freedom [Verse 2] This is to big bags of bread and some coke, n***a You can get with the program, fam’ll get smoked, n***a We was a school of sharks - a bunch of young soldiers Open your head when you’re half dead – you see? I told you On the island, got that burner, got the flamethrower A couple n***as got blown, I got my name known Over the phones, soon as I’m home, the game’s sewn I got connections – look, b**h, I’m connected And I ain’t givin’ n***as no pa**es, so respect it Or get dealt with, I’ll break you off proper You ready to die, huh? Too much Big Poppa Easy – n***a chill or get laid out I’ll put a hole in you then find out what your gang ‘bout I do my dirt, I’m hardly ever by my lonely I got that tek with that cooling system on me, You think you want it, you don't want it with me homie [Hook] I’m dreamin’ of… My dream of freedom… Financial freedom [Verse 3] We stackin’ paper ‘til we strong then we takin’ over Grab a gat, bring the crack back with baking soda Bridge the gap, get slapped, actin’ like you know us North Pole, nah, Southside produce the colas We’re the last of our litter, this is what they taught us We’ve got to k** what we eat, that n***a came up on us If you ain’t gamblin’, get the f** out the spot, boy Shoot an ace off your foot, that’s some sh** you should get shot for f** it, when I win I’m a winner – when I lose, I’m a winner ‘Cause to my n***as y’all n***as lookin’ like steak dinner You screw your face the f** up, you goin’ through what? The strap big enough in my truck to chew your crew up n***a stand down or get manned down Mack, two clips, 30 rounds plus 30 rounds, flip it around You gon’ f** around and get jammed up, blammed up Hit your spine, a standup n***a can’t even stand up [Hook] I’m dreamin’ of… My dream of freedom… Financial freedom