Discover the poetic beauty in ‘Touch the Sky’ 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.
Man I run this rap shit
Get your hands up high, hands up high, hands up high
Rest in piece to Biggie Smalls
Get your hands up high, hands up high, hands up high
R.I.P. to Tupac
Get your hands up high, hands up high, hands up high
Nigga roll that good shit
Get your hands up high, hands up high, hands up high
You wanna dance lets dance nigga I’ll take you to da prom
I’m armed tre pound in my palm I’m calm
Nigga my mamma made a baby boy the hood made a man
My first fourteen grams took that and made a grand
I do this you knew this I told you pussy
Your fate your death date ill fucking come for you pussy
Have you like ei-ei-uh oh after the forty four blow
I get low they say I go like a pro
Its a rap when I’m dosing
You smoked like a roach
You been clapped then in fact there’s no coming back from that
I’m the last of my breed
No henny no weed
Just my vest and my semi
In the back of that Bentley
I’M nos and I’m bras
See I’m there and I’m gone
Cause my loyals is strong
And my money here is long
So when I’m right I’m right
And when I’m wrong I’m right
Ill hit your ass up right
Nigga its nighty night
Man I run this rap shit
Get your hands up high, hands up high, hands up high
Rest in piece to Biggie Smalls
Get your hands up high, hands up high, hands up high
R.I.P. to Tupac
Get your hands up high, hands up high, hands up high
Nigga roll that good shit
Get your hands up high, hands up high, hands up high
Hey yo I’m higher than a pilot man
I’ll cut your body man
Beat the case I lied on a polygram
These O.G’s talk about back in the days
I have an r.i.p. sign on your Myspace page
I’m your top eight nigga
Drop eight nigga
G.C.T. coupe its sour grape nigga
I’m an ape nigga a gorilla in the mist
I hold weight nigga my connect gots bricks
I wear gold you wear platinum we still got the same cars
Same house and still f*ck the same broads
Dreams of fucking an r&b bitch
Yeah you look good girl but get your teeth fixed
I’m the teflon don boy I get busy
Ur legs to strong doing sex with pretty Ricky
760 drive by light tint
With two hoes in the whip looking like flip
Man I run this rap shit
Get your hands up high, hands up high, hands up high
Rest in piece to Biggie Smalls
Get your hands up high, hands up high, hands up high
R.I.P. to Tupac
Get your hands up high, hands up high, hands up high
Nigga roll that good shit
Get your hands up high, hands up high, hands up high