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 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.
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
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[Hook: 50 Cent and Snoop Dogg]
I'm trying to move one brick, 2 brick, 3 bricks, four, more
I'm trying to move 5 bricks, 10 bricks, 20 bricks, raw
(I smoke one ounce staring at the caddy on the showroom floor
Now I'm trying to move 5 pounds, 10 pounds, 20 pounds, more, boy)
[Verse 1: 50 Cent]
Run tell the Bloods I’m crippin', go tell the Crips I’m Blood
Nigga, I be trippin', bitch, I don't give a fuck
I put the K on niggas, I spray on niggas
Come through 2012 XJ on niggas
I'm an apex predator, nigga I'm stronger
Shooters on deck, I break bread and they on ya
Niggas said I fell off, oh, you heard I fell off?
Why the fuck would you be repeating that?
Nigga, I'm a rap tycoon, make a 100 mill by June
Now who the fuck said I can't rap, Jay?
I'm in a dope fiend's dream, I got it for 'em raw
I got that morphine memories, except I'm breaking the law
I was born a burner, in the stroller with the llama
I'm violent, I kill a nigga, put that on my mama
Nah, nah, don't tell me nothing about none of these niggas
I smoke all these niggas for this bread
[Hook]
[Verse 2: Snoop Dogg]
I give a fuck about a fed as I jump up outta bed
5 pounds, 10 pounds, 20 pounds, yeah
I'm trying to put this shit away on the low
I need a hit a day, think you better get away
From my, oh, my, I got a birdie that'll fly
From Cali to Kingston, back to NY
Snoop's master kush, puff 5 to 9
Come by and get you some pounds and now you flying high
Run with the metal with my foot to the pedal
G's with the trees and the C's on my level
5-0, you know I go hard, these fools call me Bogart
Head nigga in charge, these niggas soft as DeBarge
But I ain't tripping, I'm just flipping my cheese
Cause if you really want the bomb come and fuck with your G's
I got it, always kill, always will
Had that, sit that, my nigga get that, you hear that?
[Hook]
[Verse 3: Young Jeezy]
5 a.m. in the kitchen, nigga, I'm coughing
Bag full of white 8 balls, I'm going golfing
Now homie got killed last night, bought him a coffin
Retaliated the same night, made him a dolphin
Guess that's the life of a yay' flipper
Choppers making your ass get naked just like a stripper
Got cameras for the jackers, home invaders, man
Them niggas coming all black like they Raiders fans
All I saw growing up was kilos and gangbanging
Then the homie taught me to whip, game changing
Now I'm breaking down birds on the coffee table
Yeah, and half them bitches sold 'fore they off the table
Gotta look, nigga wantin' my half, I’m gonna split it
The type of nigga work that visit like it's a skillet
Less Soda more water, stretching like it's elastic
Weigh it up in 250's, wrap it up in plastic, yeah
[Hook]
[Outro: Snoop Dogg]
Yeah, you know what it is.
It's your cripping cousin, 5-O.
Anytime you need that mothafuckin' smoke, you know I got it, cuz.
You need five pounds, ten pounds, 20 pounds?
Whatever you need, you know I got it.
And if them niggas out there in the NY need it.
Give 'em my connect so I can hook them niggas up with that.
Ooh wee, ooh wee! We tryna move this shit, cuz.
For real though I got too much of this shit, homie.
Yeah, I'm Bob Marley reincarnated.
Jah! Rastafari!