Jackson was born and raised in South Jamaica, a neighborhood in the New York City borough of Queens. His mother Sabrina, a drug dealer, died in a fire when he was 8. Since his father had already abandoned the family, young Curtis was sent to live with his grandparents. Growing up during the crack epidemic of the 80s and 90s, Jackson dealt drugs when he wasn't "killing time" at school or boxing at a local gym. His grandparents assumed he was at after-school programs when he was out selling crack. In tenth grade, Jackson was caught with guns and drug money passing through the metal detectors at Andrew Jackson High School in Queens. In 1994, Jackson was arrested again for selling vials of cocaine to an undercover officer, and three weeks later he was arrested yet-again after police found heroin, crack cocaine, and a starter pistol in his home. Jackson was sentenced to 3 to 9 years in prison, but opted to join a 6 month boot camp program and get his GED. Around this time, Jackson began going by "50 Cent," inspired by deceased Brooklyn stick-up man Kelvin "50 Cent" Martin.
After leaving drug dealing to pursue a rap career, he released his debut album Guess Who's Back Again in 2002. He was discovered by Eminem and Dr. Dre and then signed to Interscope Records. He has since released Get Rich or Die Tryin' (2003), The Massacre (2006), Curtis (2007) and Before I Self Destruct (2009).
50 Cent has engaged in feuds with other rappers including Jay-Z, Ja Rule, The Game, Cam'ron, Fat Joe, and Rick Ross. He has also pursued an acting career, appearing in the semi-autobiographical film Get Rich or Die Tryin' in 2005, the Iraq War film Home of the Brave in 2006, and Righteous Kill in 2008. 50 Cent is one of the richest hip-hop performers, having a net worth estimated at US $440 million in 2008.
Before 50 Cent ever inked a major deal, he built up a substantial fan base in New York through underground mixtapes. 50 Cent met up with Jam Master Jay of Run-DMC and was signed to his label to write all of Jay’s music. After he’d left JMJ, he signed to Columbia Records in 1996. On this label, he released Power of the Dollar, and the singles How to Rob and Ghetto Qua Ran. Columbia Records released him from the label after being shot on May 24th, 2000.
Around this time, Eminem had heard one of 50 Cent’s demo tapes and expressed a huge interest in him on MTV, as did Dr. Dre. Shortly after this, 50 Cent officially signed to Interscope Records. He was the first rapper to sign to the joint label owned by Dr. Dre and Eminem. The first song he released on this record was entitled Wanksta and was featured on the 8 Mile soundtrack.
In its first week of release, his debut ”Get Rich Or Die Tryin’” sold 872,000 units - easily reaching Gold status. Within the second week it went Platinum (1 mil) and on April 12th, 2004 the RIAA certified it six times Platinum.
In 2005 he followed the success of his album Get Rich or Die Tryin’ with a new release - The Massacre (originally called St. Valentines Day Massacre until the release date was pushed back). The first single released off this, Disco Inferno, was a huge hit - he followed this hit up by the release of Candy Shop and then again with Just a Lil Bit.
In 2003 Interscope Records allowed 50 Cent to have his own label - G-Unit Records. He first signed Lloyd Banks, Tony Yayo and Young Buck as the established members of G-Unit Records. In 2004, Dr. Dre and 50 Cent had signed The Game under a joint venture.
Body Bags
50 Cent Lyrics
Jump to: Overall Meaning ↴ Line by Line Meaning ↴
It's not a problem, it's really not a problem. Southside
Okay, the dope addin' up, the coke addin' up
The smoke addin' up, my pockets are fattened up
I got bitches in my bedroom, nerds on computers
Diamonds 'round my neck, straps for my shooters
I made it, look ma', I made it
I got lawyers on the line, five different kinds
Five different crimes, same .45
Got a plan to turn to premise, see, a nigga ain't lyin'
'Cause they ain't gon' say I did it and I ain't gon' say I did it
And I might go back and forth to court, but I bet I get acquitted
Can you dig it? Nigga, can you dig it?
Shit changed, a nigga ain't broke
I had a safe size as a shoe box, it felt like a vault
Now I got real money, that "fuck how you feel" money
That "nigga, you look at me wrong, get killed" money
You gon' be part of my body bag ritual
Hop out, hammer out to get at you
You gon' be part of my body bag ritual
.45 lettin' off some shit at you
You gon' be put in a body bag, bag
You won't get a chance to fire back
I peep my swag in the mirror, I think I got a crush on me
I don't want no wack bitches touchin' me
Tailor-made threads, satin sheets on my bed
Get a bitch sea-sick, waves all on my head
Diamonds in my ear, Baccarat chandelier
Gabbana underwear, I'm so fly it ain't fair
Every day a different dime piece
Rose Gold, a different time piece
Hublot, AP or Rollie
Your bitch and your jeweler know me, homie
I'm bulletproof, go 'head, take a shot at me
You be a dead nigga like the last one that got at me
My shirt level three, so I ain't got a vest on
My heart like ice, my chest like teflon
I'm a nightmare right here, just me and my knife, nigga
Don't let me find out you ain't 'bout that life, nigga
It's doomsday, I mean goon day
I give the orders, like, "air out the room, Dre"
You gon' be part of my body bag ritual
Hop out, hammer out to get at you
You gon' be part of my body bag ritual
.45 lettin' off some shit at you
You gon' be put in a body bag, bag
You won't get a chance to fire back
The mileage had a shorty ass trippin', strippin' in my kitchen
Push my thumb in her ass while I was strokin' her kitten
I be in my own zone, still clutchin' the chrome
Talk state of the art, [?]
My passport need pages, I'm fuckin' round' out in London
Jetlag from jets [?] baguettes
Trippin' in my charm, look bitch, I'm a don
So shit go how I say it go, fuck if I'm right or wrong
My paper long, bomb Kush in the bong
It feels like I'm dreamin' 'cause a nigga on
I'm so far from a hammy down, I'm out in Miami now
My bitch no speak no ingles, she fresh off the boat
She give me neck, what you expect? I got connects for the dope
I'm no joke, blow 30k on the coke, stuff ten in the coat
Nigga, front, I'll have a hand full of dreadlocks
Bitch, I hit your ass with a head-shot
You gon' be part of my body bag ritual
Hop out, hammer out to get at you
You gon' be part of my body bag ritual
.45 lettin' off some shit at you
You gon' be put in a body bag, bag
You won't get a chance to fire back
The song "Body Bags" by 50 Cent is a typical gangsta rap that describes the rapper's successful transition from a street thug to a wealthy and influential street kingpin. The opening lines, "Fuck it, I mean we gotta kill what we eat, right?" signifies the rapper's ruthless mentality of doing whatever it takes to get to the top. He narrates his personal success story and the privileged lifestyle he now enjoys. He boasts of his riches, expensive possessions, and women.
50 Cent also sends a warning to his enemies, who he believes want to bring him down. In the hook, he mentions the "body bag ritual," which is a clear indication of his violent tendencies. He sees himself as untouchable, bulletproof, and with no qualms about taking revenge on anyone who gets in his way. He concludes the song by asserting that he's living his dream and will never go back to his previous situation.
Line by Line Meaning
Fuck it, I mean we gotta kill what we eat, right?
We have to work hard and put in effort to get what we need to survive.
Okay, the dope addin' up, the coke addin' up
The amount of drugs I'm consuming is increasing, and so is the money I'm making from it.
I made it, look ma', I made it
I've worked hard and finally achieved success, and want to show it off to my mother.
Can you dig it? Nigga, can you dig it?
Do you understand and appreciate the level of success and wealth I've achieved?
I had a safe size as a shoe box, it felt like a vault
Initially, my wealth was so small that even a small safe felt like a huge achievement and a major step towards success.
You gon' be part of my body bag ritual
You will be a victim of my violent and dangerous lifestyle.
I'm so fly it ain't fair
I look and feel so good that it's almost not fair to those around me.
My passport need pages, I'm fuckin' round' out in London
I have the means and the freedom to travel the world and enjoy luxury in different countries, including London.
It feels like I'm dreamin' 'cause a nigga on
I can't believe how successful and wealthy I am, it almost feels unreal.
Bitch, I hit your ass with a head-shot
I am prepared to use violence against those who cross me or my lifestyle.
Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Royalty Network, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Written by: MICHAEL TAYLOR PERRETTA, ALAN MAMAN, JACKSON CURTIS, SEAN PRICE, ROMUALD RYSZARD LIPKO, KRZYSZTOF PIOTR CUGOWSKI, ADAM ANTONI SIKORSKI, Adam Sikorski, Curtis Jackson, Krzystof Cugowski, MICHAEL PERRETTA, ROMUALD LIPKO
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
Marcus Greer
Real 50 fans will never stop playing this 💎💎
Butterfly TV
True
J Spencer
Played the intro 4, 5 times just now..... my homie told me the intro sounds like me!
HITS Son
SOUTH SIDE 🎉🎉🎉
SNMC Relapse
This ain’t 50… this straight kanan💀
SPIRITUAL JEMZ
Facts
Chuck Taylor
This will never be mainstream. This is for the dudes who was up on rap when mumbling wasn't a thing.
Roman Aguirre
Preach bother.
Jonathan Salmoran
True shit
Roxxy AnimeAngeL
+Chuck Taylor Fo soe fo soe bro !