• Lyrics: play full screen play karaoke
• $.50 - Frank Zappa
• $.50 - 50 Cent
• $.50 - The Jesus Lizard
• $.50 - Daan
• $.50 - Splashdown

Well, my dandruff is loose
An' my breath is chartreuse
I know I ain't cute
An' my voice is ka-poot
But that's awright people
I'm just crazy enough to sing to you
Any old way
I figure the odds be fifty-fifty
I just might have some thing to say
Ain't gonna sing you no love song
How my heart is all sore
Will not beg your indulgence
'Cause you heard it before
An' that's awright people
I'm just crazy enough to sing to you
Any old way
I figure the odds be fifty-fifty
I just might have some thing to say
See my prance!
I have taken your time
I have sung you my song
Ain't no great revelation
But it wasn't too long
An' that's awright people
I'm just crazy enough to sing to you
Any old way, ha ha!
I figure the odds be fifty-fifty
I just might have some thing to say

Yeah nigga
We gonna smoke this motherfucker right here, right
We gonna smoke this shit
And I'ma drink a lot a water
And I'ma take Golden Seal, so my PO don't find out
I'm smoking this shit, aight?
Yo, niggas wouldn't rob Frankie if they had the chance
Wasn't cause of him it was cause of his man Lance
Frankie cut crack
Lance hold the Mac
If fiends fuck with Frankie's pac's
Lance cut the crack heads blocked up
Thought he was locked up
Came thru stuntin' wit his wrist all rocked up
Shoulda seen him smile, missin' the tooth
Coupe missin the roof
He like 'What up, 50?'
I'm like 'What up with you'
Lance had a reputation that was well earned
Heard he taught niggas how them shells burn
Out there in Red Firm
At the dice game, he rolled ahead, crapped in the crack
I'm like 'Nah, I ain't paying for that! Nigga, shoot it back'
Niggas lookin at me like I'm crazy, they shook
I don't give a fuck who he shot out in Red Hook
Asked him about ??
Yeah, Bizzy was my man till he beat me for ten grand and sold my Mac for
seven grand (Fuckin' crazy)
The man was crazy I could tell by his look
Cause he looked the way I look
When I look for a jooks
Bitch
Motherfucker
Teamwork, work hard nigga
50 cent
Rotten Apple
G-UNIT
Lloyd Banks
Tony Yayo, nigga
Hey what up, nigga
You motherfuckin' right this DJ Clue Grand Theft Audio 2
Get the fuck out the car nigga don't make me rush you, nigga
Shoot that nigga, 50!

I'm going to go
Smoke in the shower
I need to piss down the stairs
I'm so damned sick of this
Stupid bullshit
That I'm going to start splitting hairs
So I sat down and watched a pot boil
Then I stood up and spit in the fan
While every one of you
Dumb sons of bitches
Were eating pellets
Right out of my hand
You look like a chicken in flight
Think I'll kick Foreman's ass
On my own
I will pay your slut mother
One half of one dollar
If she'll come and sleep with the band
This year's unlikely sex symbol
Is dressed like a priest not a man.

Give them something to sayAnd give them something to think
All they want is just another drink
Hey man they don't want to sink
Into your crazy mind
You know that they can't afford
To see what they can't find
Give 'm something to smash
Oil on canvas or trash
Make them smile before
the end of the trial
Double park all your cars
Show them the best of your scars
Make them feel like 50 % of a star
50 60 70 80
Don't give 'm 100 %
Just give 'm 50 %
70 80 90 100
Just give 'm 50 %
Give 'm all of your days
And give 'm all of your nights
There ain't no dealin'
with their power knights
Give 'm 50 % don't give a 100 %
For the golden crown
ain't worth a cent
Give 'm all of your clothes
And give 'm all Dylan's quotes
Hey that's smart
But where's the antidote
I think I gave it away

have it your way
I'm moving out
I've made a mistake and still you doubt me
have it your way and no-one else's
and you're still none the wiser
she's clanging in the kitchen loudly
a million times I've said I'm sorry, what's more
her way and no-one else's way
she couldn't meet me half the way
the way, the way, the way, yeah
this grudge you hold is yours alone
fifty percent of my mistake you own
you own, you own, you know, yeah
what have you to gain
from keeping understanding in a ball and chain
your little masquerades were just so goddamned unconvincing
that you dulled your blade
it's easier to blame
by claiming faith in shaming someone else's name
and you know I don't deserve it
she's standing by her judgements proudly
erroneous conclusions about me, what's more
she's black and white but never gray (dum dum dum-dum)
no, she never met me half the way
the way, the way, the way, yeah
that ground you stand's been overblown
fifty percent of my mistake you own
you own, you own, you know, yeah
what have you to gain
from keeping understanding in a ball and chain
your little masquerades were just so goddamned unconvincing
that you dulled your blade
it's easier to blame
by claiming faith in shaming someone else's name
and you know I don't deserve this
this grudge you hold is yours alone
your quiet cunning thoughts have shown
your head has been your only home
and will you ever realize
your twisted thoughts are self-despised
projections of distrust that lies between the truth
of binds that tie directly to the fact that you
you take yourself too seriously
(oow, doo-doo-doo doo)
you take yourself too seriously
this grudge you hold is yours alone
fifty percent of my mistake you own
you own, you own, you know, yeah
what have you to gain
from keeping understanding in a ball and chain
your little masquerades were just so goddamned unconvincing
that you dulled your blade
it's easier to blame
by claiming faith in shaming someone else's name
and you know I don't deserve that
that ground you stand's been overblown
fifty percent of my mistake you own
you own, you own, you know, yeah
what have you to gain
from keeping understanding in a ball and chain
your little masquerade was just so goddamned unconvincing
that you gave yourself away