Places To Go (Soundtrack Version)

Places To Go (Soundtrack Version)

50 Cent

Yeah
Shady
Aftermath
G-Unit

[Chorus:Repeat x2]
I got places to go, I got people to see,
The penitentiary, ain't the place for me,
I'm warning you, do not tempt me,
I'll run up and squeeze
And put a hole in you, hole in you

You mistaken me for somebody that you should be testing,
You should be stressing I'm gonna fucking teach you a lesson,
MAC 101's in session and lace the track that I'm blessing,
Smith and Wesson's, the weapon, in case you just guessing, (God Damn)
These straight busters kept-in, kept-in my Benz, hop-in the end's,
Watch the twenty two spin , my hoe's they perfect ten
I got shot up but I got up and I'm back at it again,
Motherfuckers they thought I would'nt win, pretend to be friends,
At first you fail, try, try, try, try again,
I'm the best don't you get it, forget it, when I spit it, its crazy,
You love it, admit it, you like it, I live it, its Shady,
Aftermath in your ass bitch, if its not a classic,
When it's dumpy, trash it, so I got it mastered,
Stop and get your ass kicked, bastered, your misses get drastic,
Glock made out of plastic, cock-it and get blasted, run nigga and stash it

[Chorus]

There is a genie in that bottle of that Dom Perignon,
I'm a drink till I get to that bitch Em and Dre going,
Introduce me to the booth they gonna listen to my words,
In the hood they feel my shit
(break-it down)

Picture a perfect picture, picture me in the paper
Picture me starting shit, picture me busting my gat,
Picture police man dey ain't gotta picture of that,
Picture me being broke, picture me smokin' a sack,
Picture me comin' up, picture me rich from rap,
Picture me blowin' up, now picture me going back,
To my momma basement to live, shit, picture that,
Where I'm from its a fact, you gotta watch your back,
You wear a vest without a gat, you's a target jack,
Hastle hard, money stack, sell that dope, sell that crack,
Sell that pack, sell that gat, sell that pussy, crew are back,
50 Cent, too much spent?, man I'm bent, I'm outta here

[Chorus]

Ha ha
Man I ain't going to jail
Not even to visit a nigga
You want to holla at me, you write me,
Matter a fact, you gotta send it to Sunset Boulevard,
In Montreal,
Ha ha
Riding around in one of Dre's Ferrari's nigga,
Or matter a fact I might be in Detroit,
Riding down 8 Mile Road,
You know for one of them en-joints and shit,
Ha ha
Ya heard, I got place to go man,
You know, Shady aftermath,
We finished our print money,
Puttin' our faces on this motherfuckin' bill thug shit,
Ha ha ha ha ha,
Ain't seem to be doing much

Written by JACKSON, CURTIS JAMES / MATHERS, MARSHALL B. III / RESTO, LUIS EDGARDO
Published by Universal Music Publishing Group

Lyrics Provided By LyricFind Inc.

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