Discover the poetic beauty in ‘The Invitation’ by 50 Cent. This lyric breakdown takes you on a journey through the artist’s thoughts, emotions, and the story they aim to tell. From clever metaphors to evocative imagery, we delve into the nuances that make this song a lyrical masterpiece. Whether you’re a fan of 50 Cent or a lover of well-crafted words, our detailed analysis will give you a deeper understanding and appreciation of this song.
I had five hundred grams and fifty in 58 bags
Fo’-hundred Benz, eight thousand in cash
Then the ball dropped, gun popped, Banks got blast
I make it so hot, one shot’ll melt yo’ ass
Got popped up, cried ’til my eyes turned red
Then told myself in the mirror “nigga, you ain’t dead”
I’m far from eccentric, I’m so psychotic
I don’t need you to shoot for me, nigga I got it
When you see me in the hood motherfucker don’t talk to me
‘Less you wan’ talk about using the hawk for me
When Al blew Black away I had him on some stupid shit
Then my rap shit worked, now I’m super stupid rich
All I do is stunt now, I’m so Maybach
There I go fronting again, I meant to say laid back
Go ‘head move reckless, get banged for your necklace
I serve him with the semi, feed him a clip for breakfast
You want some? Come get some
Nigga it’s murder one when I toss my gun
You might see me let it off, you might see me run
But you won’t see shit time the police come
Huh? You want some? Come get some
Nigga it’s murder one when you see my gun
I just squeeze and squeeze ’til the whole clip done
You just bleed and bleed ’til the police come
Huh? You want some?
I got a eighth of dope left, half a pound of purple
Shooters in my circle, try me I’ll let ’em murk you
Got more guns than a gun store, beef ain’t what you want, boy
You wanna be nice to me, you wanna shoot dice with me
You want a ace on purpose, why you so nervous?
Nigga we from the same hood, we come from the same shit
You got gonorrhea too? We fucked with the same bitch
Getting money is necessary; see me I’m a visionary
And I’m saying that house should be a crack house
Now see it how I see it or I’ll bring the straps out
The tech and the mac out, the Sig and the Taurus
The Koch and that Heckler, then nigga we warrin’
I let my pistols speak for me and all of ’em foreign
Click-clack, comprende? I’m criminal-minded
Toss my Nina in the sewer, bet nobody find it
‘Til it’s rusty and fucked up, forensics have fun, what?
You want some? Come get some
Nigga it’s murder one when I toss my gun
You might see me let it off, you might see me run
But you won’t see shit time the police come
Huh? You want some? Come get some
Nigga it’s murder one when you see my gun
I just squeeze and squeeze ’til the whole clip done
You just bleed and bleed ’til the police come
Huh? You want some?
Come get it, I’m strapped now, I’m with it
Come get it – huh? You want some?
Come get it, I’m strapped now, I’m with it
F*ck that nigga – huh? You want some?