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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Remember the Name
Yeah, I was born a misfit
Grew up 10 miles from the town of Ipswich
Wanted to make it big, I wished it to existence
I never was a sick kid, always dismissed quick
"Stick to singing, stop rappin' like it's Christmas"
And if you're talkin' money, then my conversation shiftin'
My dreams are bigger than just bein' on the rich list
Might be insanity, but people call it "gifted"
My face is goin' numb from the shit this stuff is mixed with
Watch how the lyrics in the songs might get twisted
My wife wears red, but looks better without the lipstick
I'm a private guy and you know nothin' 'bout my business
And if I had my 15 minutes, I must have missed 'em
20 years old is when I came in the game
And now it's eight years on and you remember the name
And if you thought I was good, well, then I'm better today
But it's ironic how you people thought I'd never be great
I like my shows open-air, Tokyo to Delaware
Put your phones in the air if you wanna be rocked
You know I want way more than I already got
Give me a song with Eminem and 50 Cent in the club
You know it ain't my time to call it a day
I wanna crack corn and I wanna be paid
But it's 'bout time you remember the name
Ayy, ayy
You know it ain't my time to call it a day
I wanna crack corn and I wanna be paid
But it's 'bout time you remember the name
Ayy, ayy
(Hey, hey, hey)
I can still remember (What?) tryna shop a deal (Uh-huh)
From Taco Bell to TRL
I climbed the Billboard charts to the top until, as fate would have it (Yup)
Became an addict, funny 'cause I had pop appeal
But they said time would tell (What?) if I'd prevail (Huh?)
And all I did was (What?) put nine inch nails (Where?)
In my eyelids now (What?)
I'm seein' diamond sales like I'm in Zales (Yeah)
Without a doubt, by any means, if rap was skinny jeans
I couldn't do anything in 'em
I'd be splitting seams of denim when I'm spitting schemes
Which really means, no "if," "ands," or "buts" are squeezin' in between
You sleep on me 'cause you're only fuc*** winning in your dreams
Not even when I'm on my deathbed
Man, I feel like Ed, it isn't time to drop the mic yet
So why would I quit?
The thought that I would stop when I'm dead
Just popped in my head, I said it, then forgot what I said
It isn't my time to call it a day
I got rap locked and I'm already paid
But it's 'bout time you remember the name
Ayy, ayy
You know it ain't my time to call it a day
I got rap locked and I'm already paid
But it's 'bout time you remember the name
Ayy, ayy
Ain't nobody cold as me, I
Dress so fresh, so clean
You can find me in my whip, rockin' my Fendi drip
Man, you know just what I mean
Shinin', wrist with the rocks on it
Buscemis with locks on it
Everything my voice on, that shit knock, don't it?
Balenciaga saga, I'm in Bergdorf ballin'
It's just another episode, my hoes, I spoil 'em
She like the fly shit and I like to buy shit
Shit, I'm gettin' stupid money, what else we gon' do with money?
Bitch, we be ballin' out, the king, bring me 50 bottles
Tonight we gon' blow a check, worry 'bout your shit tomorrow
The turn up is so real, we 'bout to be super lit
Boy, I'm kickin' straight facts, that's just how we do this shit
Tomorrow, we hangin' over 'til we start feelin' sober
Then it's time to start it over, here we go again
You know it ain't my time to call it a day
I got rap locked and I'm already paid
And it's about time you remember the name
Ayy, ayy
You know it ain't my time to call it a day
I got rap locked and I'm already paid
But it's 'bout time you remember the name
Ayy, ayy
(Hey, hey, hey)