| Fifty, fifty |
| Ferrari, Ferrari |
| Shooter, shooter |
| I was innocent then, I ain’t do no wrong |
| She said, «you mommy little man,» I said, «yep, uh huh» |
| She was everything to me, when she came, I just lit up |
| Sunday morning I was so sharp, all did up |
| It was welfare hustlin', they killed her for that |
| The first shot, bullet wound in my back |
| I’m fucked up, look at my sneakers, I’m fucked up |
| Now I’m on my own, mommy gone |
| Sam said, «you a young boy, why your clothes look so old? |
| You don’t need fish, little nigga, you need a pole |
| You don’t need no new kicks, you need an O» |
| Chop that, bag it, get right back at it |
| That touched me, it hit me in my heart |
| I’m a hustler, homie, you was giving me my start |
| I am what I am, Sabrina’s only baby |
| Practicing in the mirror, pulling out my .380 |
| Oh man, I fucked up nana gonna kill me |
| Whenever shit can go wrong it always will, see |
| Seven grams of cocaine, three grams of dope |
| Saint Mary medallion hanging from my rope |
| Try to punk me and my gun smoke |
| Look, I’m outta control, my gun go |
| Off like it’s legal, call the cops, you need to |
| Give 'em my description, I ain’t bullshittin' |
| My high school sweetheart love didn’t last long |
| Niggas start flashing that bread and she was gone |
| That hurt me like the bullet in my calf then |
| My next girl was a pain in the ass |
| I got two shots left, in case niggas try to get me |
| That’s nine shots, we just call it fifty |
| Mama said the Lord gon' bless us |
| Mama said, mama said |
| Mama said the Lord gon' bless us |
| Then in came the landlord, beef, and the stresses |
| Mama said the Lord gon' bless us |
| Mama said, mama said |
| Mama said the Lord gon' bless us |
| The dope bought the shit the food stamps couldn’t get us |
| Mama said the Lord gon' bless us |
| That’s what mama said, that’s what mama said |