50 Cent - My Confessions lyrics

Yo, I'd like to dedicate this to my mom
Sabrina Jackson god bless her soul
We gon' get it on in
Here nothing but real shit

Yo, shorty ain't a shorty no
More shorty be wil'ing
Shorty adolescent ass belong on the island
I went from riding big wheels to
Wanting to be a big Willy
Found interest in drug dealers
And cold hearted killers
Could it be it's in my blood
Cause my mom sold drugs?
She used to bust slugs and
Surround herself by thugs
Made mistakes by showing them love
And they killed her
Some friends never came to pay respects
So fuck Hilda
You know how friends do friends


- like Tony did Manolo
The type of fast shit that
Henry did in Good Fellas
Some snakes don't show up to weights
Cause they backs is yellow
When you hear talk of the Southside
You hear talk of the team
See, niggas feared Prince
And respected 'Preme
For all you slow muthafuckers
I'mma break it down iller
See, 'Preme was a business man -
You guess who the killer
Remember? He used to push the bulletproof BM
(uh huh) his hair'll get you seasick I
Sat back and peeped shit
They roll with E-Z Wider
And they ain't get blunted
Had the whole projects working for
Fifty or five hundred what about bug
Who trade and them niggas had cheese?
In the late 80s push Mercedes and Maseratis
Kept reserved spaces at the horse races
Where they met Columbian connections
Like Lucho and Mariella
Then bookoo bucks on the horses they
Used to cook and flip bricks
Faster than the jet flip flap
Jack and pack gats
Niggas said Ds was dipping
Burned his face with acid 'Til this day
They would say the mothefucker's gasted

It's my confession I make corrections
I strive for perfection
I try to be the best in
Whatever I do I'm telling you
This is my confession I'm
Teaching niggas a lesson
Cause they can't do
What I do here's my confession

Yo, a lot of New York blocks
Are only bringing pennies in
I stand beef - too many
Cheaps too little fucking Indians
Too many sips of the brew will
Make you do what we do
Play with insecurities
Until we start fussing and cussing
Frustration builds - few lose
And fist fights leave niggas busting
Not only do we have to look
Out and avoid encounters with Jake
Gotta look out and avoid
Encounters with snakes
Niggas who fake and play both
Sides of the gate i squeeze Boyz I I Men for
They cheese like Michael Bivins
Slip with half a big nigga
Cap like Robert Givens
Coming up I heard sipping too much
Booze will leave you confused
And if you watch the news
You'll see some players in this game and lose
Niggas think they together they
Ain't together at all
Stand on the block together
But divided they fall
A lot of niggas locked down and
Ain't got nobody to call
And a player ain't the same
Player when he can't ball

Yo, you better R-E-S-P-E-C T me - the
Type that keep the bricks flipping
Jewels dripping
The margarita sipping - description
Nappy blowouts shaped up, brown-skinned
And ask the hood rats about my
Dick the chickens recommend it
I make statements like "Try me if you want"
Presentation: cool and calm - words
As if I'm daring ya
Usually roll with a 2 shot 25 derringer
I'm not an actor my life's not a movie
I never worked with the Fugees
I'm not killing you softly pack a small gat
Just to back you up off me
But later when things simmer
And all sin ceases
My peoples will see to it that
You rest in peace in pieces
Kill or be killed - it's
What the hood teaches
Never go to church so the
Preachers can't reach us
And if we do, it's only on Easter