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)
I gotta makeit to heaven, for going through hell
Gotta make it to heaven, gotta make it to heaven
I gotta make it to heaven, for going through hell
Gotta make it to heaven I hope I make it to heaven
(50 Cent)
Some say I'm paranoid I say I'm careful how I choose my friends
Been to ICU once I ain't going again
First Zee got murked, then Roy got murked
An homies still in the hood, why he ain't getting hurt
I smell somethin' fishy man it might be a rat
Damn niggaz switchin sides on niggaz just like that
U know me, I stay wit a bitch on her knees
An give guns away in the hood like government cheese
Spray on Suzuki's eleven hundred cc's
More plate on the back, straight squeezing a Mak
In the hood they identify niggaz by they cars
So I switch up whips to stay off the radar
I ain't gotta be around to make shit hot
I send Yayo to dump 30 shots on ya block
Cause he'll spray dat Tec nigga if I say get it done
An make it wet niggaz if you round me son
(Hook)
I gotta make it to heaven, for going through hell
Gotta make it to heaven, gotta make it to heaven
I gotta make it to heaven, for going through hell
I gotta make it to heaven I hope I make it to heaven
I gotta make it to heaven, for goin through hell
Gotta make it to heaven, gotta make it to heaven
I gotta make it to heaven, for going through hell
I gotta make it to heaven I hope I make it to heaven
(50 Cent)
When I come through the hood, I don't stop to rap to niggaz
Get close enough to smack, get it clappin nigga
Pop tried to front so I waved the chrome at his ass
Point blank range I spazzed blew a bone out his ass
Two weeks later niggaz came through with Maks to lay me down
They sprayed I played Dead and got the fuck off the ground
Out the blue I get a phone call "50 waddup"
U send a bitch to me I send the bitch back cut up
I don't play that pussy shit, I done told you boy
Front on me, you gon meet one of my soldiers boy
Cousin twig shot up his mamma crib, now he in Jail
Trippin off Fliks of blue cantrell, pussy and black tail
Pop mamma moved, but she don't talk to him no more
The shells from twig 4-4, blew the hinge off her do'
Without that check every month how she gon pay for the crib
Man social service finis' come an take dem kids
(Hook)
I gotta make it to heaven, for going through hell
Gotta make it to heaven, gotta make it to heaven
I gotta make it to heaven, for going through hell
I gotta make it to heaven I hope I make it to heaven
I gotta make it to heaven, for going through hell
Gotta make it to heaven, gotta make it to heaven
I gotta make it to heaven, for goin through hell
I gotta make it to heaven I hope I make it to heaven
(50 Cent)
God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change the courage
the change the things I can, and wisdom to know the difference
The A80'll make you say that
Thats the prayer they burn in ya head when you in K-SAC
Man I might talk to you while we up in the pens
But when we come home, dat don't mean we gon fuckin be friends
Shells pass ya head close enough to hear 'em whistling
Thank god they missed you, an go grab ya pistol
In the hood niggaz runnin round actin crazy
Buyin little air Jordan's for maybe babies
See it might be his, an it might be yours
Cause them broads in the projects is straight up whores
Man it don't take much for you to get in them draws
You ain't can have 'em on they back or on all fours
You got to tell me, you feelin this shit
Because I hear what I'm sayin I know I'm killin this shit
(Hook)
I gotta make it to heaven, for goin through hell
Gotta make it to heaven, gotta make it to heaven
I gotta make it to heaven, for goin through hell
I gotta make it to heaven I hope I make it to heaven
I gotta make it to heaven, for going through hell
Gotta make it to heaven, gotta make it to heaven
I gotta make it to heaven, for going through hell
I gotta make it to heaven I hope I make it to heaven