(Chorus)
I don't know what you heard about me
But a bitch can't get a dollar out of me
No Cadillac, no perms, you can't see
That I'm a motherfucking P-I-M-P
(Repeat)
(Verse 1)
Now shorty, she in the club, she dancing for dollars
She got a thing for that Gucci, that Fendi, that Prada
That BCBG, Burberry, Dolce and Gabana
She feed them foolish fantasies, they pay her cause they wanna
I spit a little G man, and my game got her
A hour later, have that ass up in the Ramada
Them trick niggas in her ear saying they think about her
I got the bitch by the bar trying to get a drink up out her
She like my style, she like my smile, she like the way I talk
She from the country, think she like me cause I'm from New York
I ain't that nigga trying to holla cause I want some head
I'm that nigga trying to holla cause I want some bread
I could care less how she perform when she in the bed
Bitch hit that track, catch a date, and come and pay the kid
Look baby this is simple, you can't see
You fucking with me, you fucking with a P-I-M-P
(Chorus)
(Verse 2)
I'm bout my money you see, girl you can holla at me
If you fucking with me, I'm a P-I-M-P
Not what you see on TV, no Cadillac, no greasy
Head full of hair, bitch I'm a P-I-M-P
Come get money with me, if you curious to see
how it feels to be with a P-I-M-P
Roll in the Benz with me, you could watch TV
From the backseat of my V, I'm a P-I-M-P
Girl we could pop some champagne and we could have a ball
We could toast to the good life, girl we could have it all
We could really splurge girl, and tear up the mall
If ever you needed someone, I'm the one you should call
I'll be there to pick you up, if ever you should fall
If you got problems, I can solve'em, they big or they small
That other nigga you be with ain't bout shit
I'm your friend, your father, and confidant, BITCH
(Chorus)
(Verse 3)
I told you fools before, I stay with the tools
I keep a Benz, some rims, and some jewels
I holla at a hoe til I got a bitch confused
She got on Payless, me I got on gator shoes
I'm shopping for chinchillas, in the summer they cheaper
Man this hoe you can have her, when I'm done I ain't gon keep her
Man, bitches come and go, every nigga pimpin know
You saying it's secret, but you ain't gotta keep it on the low
Bitch choose with me, I'll have you stripping in the street
Put my other hoes down, you get your ass beat
Now Nik my bottom bitch, she always come up with my bread
The last nigga she was with put stitches in her head
Get your hoe out of pocket, I'll put a charge on a bitch
Cause I need 4 TVs and AMGs for the six
Hoe make a pimp rich, I ain't paying bitch
Catch a date, suck a dick, shiiit, TRICK
(Chorus)
Yeah, in Hollywoood they say there's no b'ness like show b'ness
In the hood they say, there's no b'ness like hoe b'ness ya know
They say I talk a lil fast, but if you listen a lil faster
I ain't got to slow down for you to catch up, BITCH
Lloyd Banks]
Man we gotta go get something to eat man
I'm hungry as a motherfucker
[50 Cent]
Ay yo man, damn what's taking homie so long son?
[Lloyd Banks]
50, calm down, here he come
[9 Shots]
[Banks and 50]
Ahh, ohh, what the fuck!?
[50 Cent]
Ahh! son, pull up! pull up!
[Intro: 50 Cent - singing]
Many men, wish death upon me
Blood in my eye dawg and I can't see
I'm trying to be what I'm destined to be
And niggaz trying to take my life away
I put a hole in nigga for fucking with me
My back on the wall, now you gon' see
Better watch how you talk, when you talk about me
Cause I'll come and take your life away
Many men, many, many, many, many men
Wish death 'pon me
Lord I don't cry no more
Don't look to the sky no more
Have mercy on me
[Verse One]
Now these pussy niggaz putting money on my head
Go on and get your refund motherfucker, I ain't dead
I'm the diamond in the dirt, that ain't been found
I'm the underground king and I ain't been crowned
When I rhyme, something special happen every time
I'm the greatest, something like Ali in his prime
I walk the block with the bundles
I've been knocked on the humble
Swing the ox when I rumble
Show your ass what my gun do
Got a temper nigga, go'head, lose your head
Turn your back on me, get clapped and lose your legs
I walk around gun on waist, chip on my shoulder
Till I bust a clip in your face, pussy, this beef ain't over
[Chorus - singing]
Many men, many, many, many, many men
Wish death 'pon me
Lord I don't cry no more
Don't look to the sky no more
Have mercy on me
Have mercy on my soul
Somewhere my heart turned cold
Have mercy on many men
Many, many, many, many men
Wish death upon me
[Verse Two]
Some days wouldn't be special, if it wasn't for rain
Joy wouldn't feel so good, if it wasn't for pain
Death gotta be easy, 'cause life is hard
It'll leave you physically, mentally, and emotionally scarred
This if for my niggaz on the block, twisting trees and cigars
For the niggaz on lock, doing life behind bars
I don't see only god can judge me, 'cause I see things clear
Quick these crackers will give my black ass a hundred years
I'm like Paulie in Goodfellas, you can call me the Don
Like Malcolm by any means, with my gun in my palm
Slim switched sides on me, let niggaz ride on me
I thought we was cool, why you want me to die homie?
[Chorus]
[Verse Three]
Every night I talk to god, but he don't say nothing back
I know he protecting me, but I still stay with my gat
In my nightmares, niggaz keep pulling techs on me
Psych says some bitch dumb, put a hex on me
The feds didn't know much, when Pac got shot
I got a kite from the pens that told me, Tuck got knocked
I ain't gonna spell it out for you motherfuckers all the time
Are you illiterate nigga? You can't read between the lines
In the bible it says, what goes around, comes around
Almost shot me, three weeks later he got shot down
Now it's clear that I'm here, for a real reason
'Cause he got hit like I got hit, but he ain't fucking breathing
[Chorus]
50 Cent]
Go, go, go, go
Go, go, go shawty
It's your birthday
We gon' party like it's yo birthday
We gon' sip Bacardi like it's your birthday
And you know we don't give a fuck
It's not your birthday!
[Chorus] (2x)
You can find me in the club, bottle full of bub
Look mami I got the X if you into taking drugs
I'm into having sex, I ain't into making love
So come give me a hug if you into to getting rubbed
[Verse]
When I pull out up front, you see the Benz on dubs
When I roll 20 deep, it's 20 knives in the club
Niggas heard I fuck with Dre, now they wanna show me love
When you sell like Eminem, and the hoes they wanna fuck
But homie ain't nothing change hold down, G's up
I see Xzibit in the Cutt that nigga roll that weed up
If you watch how I move you'll mistake me for a playa or pimp
Been hit wit a few shells but I dont walk wit a limp
In the hood then the ladies saying "50 you hot"
They like me, I want them to love me like they love 'Pac
But holla in New York them niggas'll tell ya im loco
And the plan is to put the rap game in a choke hold
I'm feelin' focused man, my money on my mind
I got a mill out the deal and I'm still on the grind
Now shawty said she feeling my style, she feeling my flow
Her girlfriend wanna get bi and they ready to go
[Chorus] (2x)
[Bridge]
My flow, my show brought me the doe
That bought me all my fancy things
My crib, my cars, my pools, my jewels
Look nigga I got K-Mart and I ain't change
[Verse]
And you should love it, way more then you hate it
Nigga you mad? I thought that you'd be happy I made it
I'm that cat by the bar toasting to the good life
You that faggot ass nigga trying to pull me back right?
When my junk get to pumpin in the club it's on
I wink my eye at ya bitch, if she smiles she gone
If the roof on fire, let the motherfucker burn
If you talking bout money homie, I ain't concerned
I'm a tell you what Banks told me cause go 'head switch the style up
If the niggas hate then let 'em hate
Watch the money pile up
Or we go upside there wit a bottle of bub
You know where we fucking be
[Chorus] (2x)
[Talking]
(laughing) Don't try to act like you ain't know where we been either nigga
In the club all the time nigga, its about to pop off nigga
G-Unit
(Chorus)
I don't need Dom Perignon, I don't need Cris
Tanqueray and Alize, I don't need shit
Nigga I'm high all the time, I smoke that good shit
I stay high all the time, man I'm on some hood shit
Give me some dro, purple haze, and some chocolate
Give me a dutch and a lighter I'll spark shit
And stay high all the time, I smoke that good shit
I'm high all the time, man I'm on some hood shit
(Verse 1)
Everytime I ROLL up, niggas holla ROLL up, and I tell'em HOLD up,
You ain't gettin money you ain't smoking
In my Benzo, 20 inch Lorenzos, smoking on indo
Hiiigh as a motherfucker
I be on them backstreets, niggas know I clap heat, only if you got beef
Man you better holla at me
Niggas get locked up, stabbed up, shot up
Everytime I pop up, a lot going on in my hood
I shoot the dice, I holler get'em girls
Daddy need new shoes
Daddy need Perelli's to look mean on 22s
Stash box, Xbox, laptop, fax machine, phone
Bulletproof this bitch and I'm gone
2003 Suburban swerving, too many sips of Henny
The D's sick, they searched the whip and they can't find the semis
They was just harassing me cause they know who I was
Spent the night in Central Booking for smoking some bud
(Chorus)
(Verse 2)
Now if you heard I done started some shit
It ain't because I be high (I be high, I be high)
And if you heard I done let off a clip
It ain't because I be high (I be high, I be high)
But I- twist that la, la, la, la
I get high as I wanna nigga
Go against me, fa sho, you's a goner nigga
I don't smoke to calm my nerves but I got beef
Finna crush my enemies like I crush the hashish
If you love me, tell me you love me, don't stare at me man
I'd hate to be in the Benz clapping one of my fans
Let me show you how to greet me, when you meet me, when you see me
If you real my nigga, you know how to holla "G-Unit!"
There's no competition, it's just me,
50 Cent, motherfucker, I'm hot on these streets
If David could go against Goliath with a stone
I can go at Nas and Jigga, both for the throne
(Chorus)
(Verse 3)
Now who you know besides me who write lines and squeeze nines
And have hoes in the hood sniffin on white lines
You don't want me to be your kid's role model
I'll teach them how to buck them 380s and load up them hollows
Have shorty fresh off the stoop, ready to shoot
Big blunt in his mouth, deuce deuce in his boot
Sit in the crib, sippin Guinness, watching Menace
Then Oh Lord, have a young nigga bucking shit like he O-Dog
My team they depend on me when it's crunch time
I eat a nigga food in broad day like it's lunchtime
You feeling brave nigga, go ahead get gully
See if I won't leave your brains leaking up out your skully
I done made myself hot, so ain't shit you can tell me
Niggas calling me to feature, man fuck your money
I ain't hurting, I'm doing good
I ain't got to write rhymes, I got bricks in the hood
(Chorus)
G-Unit, are you ready
G-Unit, are you ready
G-Unit, are you ready
Nigga, ready or not, here I come, come, com
(Hook)
I gotta make it to heaven, fuck going through hell
Gotta make it to heaven, gotta make it to heaven
I gotta make it to heaven, fuck going through hell
Gotta make it to heaven I hope I make it to heaven
(50 Cent)
Some say I'm paranoid I say I'm careful how I choose my friends
Been to ICU once I ain't going again
First Zee got murked, then Raw got murked
An homies still in the hood, why he ain't getting hurt
I smell somethin' fishy man it might be a rat
Damn niggaz switchin sides on niggaz just like that
U know me, I stay wit a bitch on her knees
An get guns away in the hood like government cheese
Spray on Suzuki's eleven hundred cc's
More plate on the back, straight squeezing a Mak
In the hood they identify niggaz by they cars
So I switch up whips to stay off the radar
I ain't gotta be around to make shit hot
I send Yayo to dump 30 shots on ya block
So spray dat Tec nigga if I say get it done
An make it wet niggaz if you round me son
(Hook)
I gotta make it to heaven, fuck going through hell
Gotta make it to heaven, gotta make it to heaven
I gotta make it to heaven, fuck going through hell
I gotta make it to heaven I hope I make it to heaven
I gotta make it to heaven, fuck goin through hell
Gotta make it to heaven, gotta make it to heaven
I gotta make it to heaven, fuck going through hell
I gotta make it to heaven I hope I make it to heaven
(50 Cent)
When I come through the hood, I don't stop the rapping niggaz
Get close enough to smack, get it clappin nigga
Pac tried to front so I waved the chrome on his ass
Point blank range I span put a bone on his ass
Two weeks later niggaz came through with Maks to lay me down
Then sprayed I played Dami me get the fuck off the ground
Out the blue I get a phone call “50 waddup”
U send a bitch at me I send the bitch back cut up
I don't play that pussy shit, I done told you boy
Front on me, you gon meet one of my soldiers boy
Cause Entwain shot up his mamma crib an now he in Jail
Trippin on Fliks an bogger trail, pussy in black tail
Pack mamma moved, but she don't talk to him no more
The shells from twains 4-4, blew the hinge off her do'
Without that Tec every month how she gon pay for the crib
Man social service finis' come an take dem kids
(Hook)
I gotta make it to heaven, fuck going through hell
Gotta make it to heaven, gotta make it to heaven
I gotta make it to heaven, fuck going through hell
I gotta make it to heaven I hope I make it to heaven
I gotta make it to heaven, fuck going through hell
Gotta make it to heaven, gotta make it to heaven
I gotta make it to heaven, fuck goin through hell
I gotta make it to heaven I hope I make it to heaven
(50 Cent)
Lord, grant me the serenity to accept the things I can I change the courage
the change the things I can, but wisdom know the difference
But A, Ade did a make you say dat I say dat
Thas the grade A burnin ya head when you a case act
Man I might talk to you while we up in the Benz
But when we come home, dat don't mean we gon fuck an be friends
Shells smash ya head close enough to hear 'em whistling
Thank god they missed you, an go grab ya pistol
In the hood niggaz runnin round actin crazy
Buyin little air Jordan's for maybe babies
See it might be his, an it might be yours
Cause them broads in the projects is straight up whores
Man it don't take much for you to get in them draws
You ain't can have 'em on they back or on all fours
You got to tell me, you feelin this shit
Because I hear what I'm sayin I know I'm killin this shit
(Hook)
I gotta make it to heaven, fuck goin through hell
Gotta make it to heaven, gotta make it to heaven
I gotta make it to heaven, fuck goin through hell
I gotta make it to heaven I hope I make it to heaven
I gotta make it to heaven, fuck going through hell
Gotta make it to heaven, gotta make it to heaven
I gotta make it to heaven, fuck going through hell
I gotta make it to heaven I hope I make it to heaven
[Tony Yayo]
Yea... Lloyd Banks, Tony Yayo
[50 Cent]
Yea...Niggas salute me
Uh huh
[Tony Yayo]
We takin over this shit
(50 Cent)
Yo
[Tony Yayo]
G Unitttt
[50 Cent]
G Unit soliders
(gun cocks)
Ride out
[Tony Yayo]
Whatcha say whatcha say?
[50 Cent]
G Unit solider
(gun cocks)
Ride out
[Lloyd Banks]
Yea...Yea...
I'm from the hood where the drop-outs is bangin for the feelin
For houses wit Tvs hangin from the ceilin (Lloyd Banks)
We gamble on ball courts
Keep the paint peelin
You either play ball or rap if you aint dealin
I'm stuck in the past
Shit changed since the 80s (What)
I know ladies, that got babies wit babies
Out here its basketball and speedbags
And guns that'll stiffin you up like freeze tag
[Tony Yayo]
You can talk tough to them cowards that you pick on and beat up
And walk around town wit your whole fuckin re-up (Yayo)
Flashin singles, wit the 20s on top
While I'm ridin on 20s in the juky drop top
So never show love wit ya left hand
You'll lose 5 liters of blood a thug's a dead man (come on)
[50 Cent]
G Unit soliders
(gun cocks)
Ride out
G Unit solider
(gun cocks)
Ride out
[Tony Yayo]
Home of the new right here
[50 Cent]
G Unit soliders
(gun cocks)
Ride out
G Unit soliders
(gun cocks)
Ride out
[Lloyd Banks]
Nigga...Nigga
Niggas know I'm hot
But my ice cold enough to freeze whole towns (uhh)
Still follow the code Gs up hoes down (come on)
I see you ballin and ya rocks is chilly
Now my G Unit niggas dont ride bikes
Dont pop-a-wheelie (blaaadt)
I aint straight I'm livin where its hot and sandy
And the Benz's complexion is cotton candy
I bounced up, thats the best part
You niggas don't know what pain is
The only scar on ya body's a stretch mark (stretch mark)
[Tony Yayo]
Keep ya mouth shut, and keep ya ears open
Cause it's liver than P-89s when we approachin (what else)
Listen homie
We got AKs and Remintons
For niggas in the hood playin cowboys and indians
Ladies and gentleman we was born to ball
So if you see me in the club I'm in the bathroom stall
Gettin oral sex she bless the huey all night
She got a georgous neck the way she toss this dick
[50 Cent]
G Unit soliders
(gun cocks)
Ride out
G Unit soliders
(gun cocks)
Ride out
[Tony Yayo]
50 whatcha say??
[50 Cent]
G Unit soliders
(gun cocks)
Ride out
G Unit soliders
(gun cocks)
Ride out
[Lloyd Banks talking over beat]
Yea...G Unit man..
We runnin the streets man
We takin this rap shit over man
This serious man its more then rap nigga
Mention this nigga 50 name nigga
I'm blowin niggas brains out nigga
Thats my nigga right there
Yea...it aint a game no more
Tony Yayo, Lloyd Banks
Same go for them nigga
Blow ya fuckin head off nigga
G Unit klick
My nigga Proav L
Yea..he..the whole fuckin hood
134 nigga
We got yall nigga
Yea...uh..uh
(Dr.Dre)
Ya'll know me,still the same O.G.but I been low key
Hated on by most these niggaz wit no cheese,no deals and no G's
No wheels and no keys,no boats no snowmobiles,and no ski's
Mad at me cause I can finally afford to provide my family wit groceries
Got a crib wit a studio and it's all full of tracks
to add to the wall full of plaques
Hangin up in the office in back of my house like trophies
Did y'all think I'ma let my dough freeze? Hoe please
You better bow down on both knees
Who you think taught you to smoke trees?
Who you think brought you the oldies?
Eazy-E's,Ice bube's,and D.O.C's
The snoop D-O-double-G's
and the group that said mother-''Fuck Tha Police''
Gave you a tape full of dope beats
to bump when you stroll through in your hood
And when your album sales wasn't doin too good
who's the doctor they told you to go see?
Y'all better listen up closely
All you niggaz that said that I turned pop,or The Firm flopped
Y'all are the reason that Dre ain't been gettin no sleep
so FUCK Y'ALL,all of y'all;if you don't like me,BLOW ME
Y'all are keep fuckin around wit me
and turn me back to the old me
Chorus:Eminem (repeat 2x)
Nowadays everbody wanna talk like they got something to say
but nothin comes out when they move their lips;
just a bunch of gibberish
And motherfuckers act like they forgot about Dre
(Eminem)
So what do you say to somebody you hate(What?)
Or anyone tryin to bring trouble your way?
Wanna resolve things in a bloodier way?(YUP)
Then just study a tape of N.W.A.!
One day I was walkin by,wit a Walkman on,when I caught a guy
give me an awkward eye(What you lookin at?)
And strangled himoff in the parkin lot,wit his Karl Kani
I don't give a fuck if it's dark or not
I'm harder than me tryin to park a Dodge
when I'm drunk as fuck
Right next to a humungous truck in a two-car garage{*CRUNCH*
Hoppin out wit two broken legs, tryin to walk it off
''Fuck you to bitch,call the cops!''
I'ma kill you and them loud ass motherfuckin barkin dogs
And when the cops came through
me and Dre stood next to a burnt down houde
Wit a can full of gas and a hand full of matches
And still weren't found out(RIGHT HERE)
From here on out it's the Chronic 2
Startin today and tomorrow's the new
And I'm still loco enough
To choke you to death wit a Charleston Chew
{*Eminem's vocal turntable*
Slim shady-hotter then a set of twin babies
in a Mercedes Benz wit the windows up
when the temp goes up to the mid 80's
Callin men ladies;sorry Doc but I been crazy
There's no way that you can save me
It's okay.go with him Hailey(Da-da?)
Chorus
(Dr.Dre)
If it was up to me, you muh'fuckers would stop comin up to me
wit your hands out lookin up to me.like you want somethin free
When my last CD was out,you wasn't bumpin me
But know that I got this little company
Everbody wanna come to me like it was some disease
But you won't get a crump from me
Cause I'm from the streets of (Compton,Compton)
I told em all-all them little gangstas
Who you think helped mold'em all?
Now you wanna run around talkin bout guns like I ain't got none
What you think I sold 'em all?
Cause I stay well off
Now I get is hate mail all day sayin Dre fell off
What cause I been in the lab wit a pen and a pad
tryin to get this damn label off?
I ain't havin that;this is the millenium of Aftermath
It ain't gon' be nothin after that
So give me one more platinum plaque
and fuck rap!You can have it back
So where's all the mad rappers at?
It's like a jungle in this habitat
But all you savage cats,know that I was strapped wit gats
when you were cuddlin a Cabbage Patch
Chorus
Chorus 1/2 (after music ends)
(music starts)
Intro: (50 Cent)
Yo This is 50 on the check in. For real people everywhere..Ja, Suck A Dick
Verse 1 (Tony Yayo)
Yo its T-O-N-Y,
Stay with A Semi
Dont ask me why dawg, but I'm herre
G-G-G- Unit 187 on your block beware
Yayo is my name and the substance that I bag
in a cloth, envelope, held up in a rag
I'll turn any of u soldiers into junkies
Im the number 1 seller in the whole damn country
Ya Heard, thats how i get down
Guerilla Unit is here and we up in your town (G-UNIT)
Chorus
Every Gangsta in every hood
U Know we up to know good
We got the gunz that yall need
we like to smoke on that weed
We drive 20's on big trucks
and yall know we just dont give a fuck
Every Gangsta in Every Hood
Yall know we up to no good
Verse 2 (Lloyd Banks)
Yo It's the most hated playa in the history of hoods
We G-Unit soldiers man we never up to any good
Lloyd Banks hit ya up don't try again
I'm not your buddy let alone your distant friend
I got nines that are just itching to be blasted
And skinny niggaz get it not the FAT BASTARDS
JaRule and Irv aint got no shit on us
They just whack ya heard tryin to crip (get bussed)
My gunz are all loaded ready to thrash
The future is now we got the whole hood on smash (G-Unit)
Chorus
Every Gangsta in every hood
U Know we up to know good
We got the gunz that yall need
we like to smoke on that weed
We drive 20's on big trucks
and yall know we just dont give a fuck
Every Gangsta in Every Hood
Yall know we up to no good
Verse 3 (50 Cent)
I'm not afraid of the so-called Murda Menaces
I'll shoot up so bad leave their faces with twisted grimaces
My gun squrts/but man it aint water
I'll Kill all u Homos, you might call it a slaughter
Ja Rule U skinny Playa Might need to gain some weight
My bullet twists you up leave u to deal with your fate
Murda aint gonna shoot me/cuz yall dont even got guns
ya'll turn hard rap music into playschool fun
Enuff candy rap/We straight Gangsta
Murda jumped proof, he's not the one with colon cancer
Yo fucking faggots/Aint never seen crack
I'll deal you niggaz bullets smokin back-2-back
Now im beefin with yall cuz u beefin with me
Ya'll got plenty "gangstas" while I stick with three
Don't ever in a song use the words guns, kill, and gay
I got the three biggest bodyguards (G, Em and Dre)
It's Finished! G-G-G-G- UNIT
(Outro) (Tony Yayo)
Thats It for Murda. Explain it to all your homies in the hood man.
Murda has officially ended thier career. Ja and Irv are in the coffin.
Ashanti's naked in bed. Vitas thrown out. Caddy is dead. Black is dead.
Jody Mack ran away. Life's Great.
(music stops)
(50 Cent)
G-G-G- G Unit!!
We aint never scared.
f/ G-Unit, Scarlett
[50 Cent] G Unit!
[50 Cent] A, B
[Scarlett] You can't fuck with me
[50 Cent] C, D
[Scarlett] We fulla Harlem streets
[50 Cent] E, F
[Scarlett] Don't talk me to death
[50 Cent] G, H
[Scarlett] It's elementary
[Scarlett]
Picture me rolling Range Rover
Same color your Air Force Ones
White on white, ya like?
Red I flight the night
From L.A. to N.Y.
I'm Harlem bound
You should see how bitches tense up, when Scarlett 'round
Niggas get the heart to holla while we up in the club
But get intimidated when they see me sitting on dubs
I hear 'em whispering " dat ain't a man, shit that's her."
She roll with them G Unit niggas, that's what's up
Disrespect me, I'll have niggas blast ya up
Take my advice, don't let ya peoples gas ya up
I got a fetish for the chips
20's for the six
Hollows for the clips
Try me, if you think I'm playing bitch
And the police we'll have another crime scene taker
Jim Star crush your head, give your ass a shape-up
Uptown niggas known for the money they make
Everybody ain't shook, you see doing the shake
[50 Cent][Hook]
The boss spending ends
Saying, "Gimme that Benz, 20 inch rims, and four TV's"
The snitch in the precinct saying
"He sell X, he sell techs, and he sell D"
The balla by the bar saying,
"Everybody drink, the best champagne, it's all on me"
Snitch in the back of the police car
Pointing out the window saying, "He robbed me"
It's elementary
[Lloyd Banks]
1,2,3,4
[50 Cent]
Lloyd Banks' in the house
[Lloyd Banks]
Now get the fuck on the floor
I slid through the front door
With the 9 and the velour
A cal in my pocket
You wil', I'mma pop it
I'm down for a profit
I'm ghetto as hell
You can't tell?
My road dog, under the jail
Getting frustrating mail
So I'm drinking and smoking
Thinking and hoping
This cell gon' open
You can dance next to me, but don't throw an elbow
I'll throw one back and leave blood on your Shell Toes
Hell no
I ain't paying for pleasure
Your pussy don't bring rainbows and pots of treasure
It's every girl's dream, to floss with the team
Long limousine
DVD's on the screen
Blowing on cream
Waiting for you to scheme
You ain't gotta know how to read, to spray a magazine
[Hook]
[Tony Yayo]
I don't wanna grow up, I'mma hustler kid
Go'head and stunt, see I don't pop two your wig
I'm artistic, intelligent, so much ability
When I use them big words, your bitch be feeling me
So ya'll niggas hate me, 'cause your wives be our groupies
Ya'll irritate me, like loud people in the movies
Fall back, matter fact back down
'Cause I just passed security without no pat down
You can catch me in the bathroom blowing a sticky
Or catch me on the dancefloor feeling some tits
Sex sells, so I'mma P-I-M-P
So my pockets never be empty
It ain't no problem, we scoop them models
We got condoms, coups, and lavish condos
50 got me getting ass like I never did
So when I step in the club, hoes love the kid
[Hook]
[50 Cent]
The cat in the house go
Meow, meow, meow, meow, meow, meow, meow, meow, meow
The bird in the cage go
Tweet, tweet, tweet, tweet, tweet, tweet
It's elementary
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