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50 Cent: Una Vida de Superación y Éxito en el Hip-Hop

Primeros Años y Vida Temprana

50 Cent, cuyo nombre de nacimiento es Curtis James Jackson III, nació el 6 de julio de 1975 en el barrio de South Jamaica, Queens, Nueva York. Criado por su madre, Sabrina, quien fue traficante de drogas, 50 Cent enfrentó múltiples dificultades desde una temprana edad. Su madre murió cuando él tenía apenas ocho años, dejando a Curtis bajo el cuidado de sus abuelos.

Durante su adolescencia, Jackson cayó en el tráfico de drogas y tuvo numerosos problemas con la ley. Sin embargo, desde joven mostró interés en la música, escribiendo y componiendo sus propios temas.

El Inicio de su Carrera Musical

El camino hacia el estrellato no fue fácil. 50 Cent comenzó su carrera musical en los últimos años de la década de 1990, grabando su primer álbum Power of the Dollar en 2000 para Columbia Records. Sin embargo, el álbum nunca fue lanzado oficialmente debido a un incidente que cambió su vida: 50 Cent recibió nueve disparos en un tiroteo en mayo de 2000. Milagrosamente, sobrevivió y decidió centrarse completamente en su carrera musical.

La Conexión con Eminem y el Éxito de Get Rich or Die Tryin'

Tras recuperarse, 50 Cent llamó la atención de Eminem, quien quedó impresionado por su mixtape Guess Who's Back?. Eminem lo presentó a Dr. Dre, y juntos decidieron firmarlo bajo sus sellos discográficos, Shady Records y Aftermath Entertainment.

En 2003, lanzó su álbum debut Get Rich or Die Tryin', el cual fue un éxito Ver BiograFia Completa

  • Boy Boy - 50 Cent 3:57

50 Cent - Boy Boy Lyrics


[Intro: Tony Yayo]
Tougher than leather, nigga
I'm tougher than an African kid
Running bare-foot in the gullies, nigga
Know what I'm saying?
Tough, OG now, nigga, yeah, yeah

[Verse 1: Tony Yayo]
To all living things around me
Cash rules everything around me
Your music is unenthusiastic
My jewelry glow in the dark
Škorpion from Serbia, catch you in traffic
20-round clip, curved magazine
And you could leave the Earth over small little things
John Gotti hit the cake, go bada bing
And you ain't do shit when them things start to ring
South side, we outside, niggas kill, son
They'll Seattle Seahawk you, throwing bullets like Wilson

[Verse 2: Young Buck]
White sheets cover his feet, Ku Klux Klan'ed your man
Left him in the streets, strap in his left hand
The thought of even coming around here was a death plan
And if a nigga cosign that he a "yes man"
Shoot the fuck out of a fuck nigga, I'm all fucked up
So loser, I lose, the dice game getting stuck up
When shit real you get killed around here, it's not a big deal
Load her out, nigga, use my big bitch for a shield
(You know I'm saying?) Thank you for real
[Chorus: 50 Cent]
Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy
When your mouth to be shooting
You find out that we been shooting all along
Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy
You get caught without that Ruger
We put hot shit through you then we gone
Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy
Boy, don't let me catch you slipping, boy, boy
Boy, you know I get to tripping, boy, boy
Boy, don't let me strap that clip in, boy, boy
Boy, you know I get to tripping, boy, boy

[Verse 3: Tony Yayo]
My money up when them mills come
L.A. Reid with the dope, son, Jimmy Iovine with the coke, son
Wise time fly by, I'm an OG, bad bitch with double D's
Nigga, Jordan couldn't palm these, feel the breeze
Wrap 'em in satin, they be gone by the morning
Federal subpoenas while SWATs kick the doors in
Fuck up the sheets, the electric tapes to your daughter
I show that bitch how to breathe under water
Excusez moi, French bitches bending over
Snatch 'em out the whip, throw 'em in the Range Rover
Snitches and phones, catch the 30 piece from the jewelry
[?] why they texting 'bout Lisa Bonet
Frank Lucas put flowers on Bump grave every Tuesday
That's loyalty and don't listen to everything your lawyer say
Red dot, surgery with the laser
Have a nigga missing like that plane from Malaysia
[Verse 4: Kidd Kidd]
Fo' fo's, long nose is Gonzo's
Hundred rounds drum on the K, that's bongos
Running your mouth with deadly convo, I clap like, "bravo"
Bend back for the encore, nigga, huh (huh)
You pussy niggas think you got nine lives
I'ma make sure I stick you more than nine times
With that ice pick I'm a cold killer
You tucking your tail and growing whiskers, rat nigga

[Chorus: 50 Cent]
Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy
When your mouth to be shooting
You find out that we been shooting all along
Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy
You get caught without that Ruger
We put hot shit through you then we gone
Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy
Boy, don't let me catch you slipping, boy, boy
Boy, you know I get to tripping, boy, boy
Boy, don't let me strap that clip in, boy, boy
Boy, you know I get to tripping, boy, boy

Boy Boy » 50 Cent Letras !!!

Lyrics de: 50 Cent