(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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