"Who U Rep With"
(feat. Bravehearts, Nas)

[Verse 1 - Nas]
Hats off, to da rich ones who flash and floss
Pour some liquors out to my dogs trapped up north
Reminisce on the deceased who no longer exist
Only wishin' we could bring them back with songs like dis
Old flicks on us chillin' wit da old time click
Holdin' nines, thoughts of death, not our lives we risk
How it use to be, early morn, pumpin' in shifts
Jakes wit pale faces in the night is the scariest
They handcuff me, they knew my government and alias
Various calls were made up for awarin' us
The D's in the marked vans and cabs
In our land, hoodrats get stapped by niggas who forty
Turnin' out young lady's and make them make thoughties
Got them coked out, the hood is bugged out
Thug babies, famous in they strollers
Before they walk they knew the hood talk
It's in the air of New York
So everybody'll pick em up, kissin em up
Treatin' them like they own, in dis hood we call home
Fist fight till we grown and these guns come out
Circle of life, it's kinda deep how we end out.

[Chorus]
Yo them niggas that wanted beef before
Don't want no beef no mo
Now that they know who I rep with
QB NIGGA!!!
Who I rep with
QB NIGGA!!! [repeat]

[Verse 2 - 50 Cent]
Ya'll niggas better sober up before ya'll speak to me, don't come at me high
Last rapper that raised his voice to me, got japped in da eye
Now if I say I'm gone get you, I'ma get ya
On da strength of da inf, from long range I can hit ya
You find out them niggas who wit ya ain't even wit ya
After da gem stars split ya, you need an MD to stitch ya
Peep how I use words to paint pictures
Peep how I got niggas with bodies askin' me for ten cents to got hit ya
Look my name up in the law book, Curtis Jackson
Known for creatin' action, by rapidly clappin'
Nigga I stay strapped, so much I nickname gats
Got a tech I call Tina, a nine I name Nina
Two niggas went to see Allah afta they seen her
This QB shit, bout to take me to da next level
Next crib, next Benz, next bitch, next bezel.
It's that real.

[Chorus]

[Verse 3 - Bravehearts (Millennium Thug, Horse, Jungle, Wiz)]
Yo, aiyyo, who da fuck wanna war
I got a four four, pierce ya'll niggas jaw
You see me thugged out, iced out, Guinness Stout
Hopin' out the Range wit da gun out
Smack your man down, you ran off
I was gonna hit him with two, I left some for you
I put four, QB rugged and raw
I got somethin' for these rap cats, fish held back gats
Scope wit a beam on it, loc put your cream on it
Shine don't scheme on it, I make your dream about it
Forever, whatever whatever get gully
Shots thru your leather and clothe, With your skelly off
Break ya'll clowns off
Yo hollow tips will flood your jacket, I don't give a fuck who you be
Millennium Thug, now who da fuck want it with me.

I mastered the art of slap boxin' niggas in da dark
QB's big man, Horse of the Bravehearts
I'm da Sasquash of rap, collector of gats
Testin' macks at your bulletproof vests and hats.

How bout that, guns bust off, I bust back
When trucks backfire, I bust back
How bout that, stomp a muhfuckin' rib out ur back
Ya'll niggas ain't gangsta rap, ya'll click like Josey and the Pussycats
When we come around da front, stop.

Uh huh, ya'll can't fuck around ya'll get dropped
When guns pop, who's tellin'
Twin barrel nines wavin' and yellin', QB NIGGA WHAT
Two-time felon, straight to da melon, straight to da dome
Send a nigga back, get da shells, go straight home
Never slip, my +Ill Will+ to survive is so deep
Can't sleep, cousin to death, makes me weak
Pullin' triggers at my shadow, Bravehearts pop up
Wiz, Jungle and Horse shot your block up.

[Chorus 2]
Them niggas that wanted war before
Don't want no war no mo
Now that they know who I rep wit
QB NIGGA!!
Who I rep wit
QB NIGGA!! [repeat]

[Edit byCharmedS: Izmenjen Tekst]

"Ghetto Qua Ran"

[talking]
Uh huh, uh huh, uh huh
Southside, what y'all niggas know about the dirty south?
One time

[Chorus]
Lord forgive me, for I've sinned
Over and over again, just to stay on top
I recall memories, filled with sin
Over and over again, and again

Yo, when you hear talk of the southside, you hear talk of the team
See niggas feared Prince and respected Prim'
For all you slow muthafuckas I'm a break it down iller
See Preme was a business man and Prince was the killer
Remember, he used to push the bulletproof BM, uh huh
This here get ya seasick, I sat back and peeped shit
The roll with Easy Rider and they ain't get blunted
Had the whole projects workin for fifty on five-hundred
As a youth, all I ever did was sell crack
I used to idolize cat
Hurt me in my heart to hear that nigga snitched on Pat
how he go out like that?
Rumors in the hood was ?? was snitchin
I ain't believe that, pa, he helped me cop my first GSX-R
Had the four-runner, the Z, the 5 and the 3
Used to drive his truck through the hood draggin jet skis
From Gerald Wallace to Baby Wise, don't be suprised
Of how freely I thought of names of games who dealt with pies
Like L-A-N-Y's, L got shot in the neck, then told us connect
Them niggas who shot 'em got 'em for ten bricks
Fuckin Dominicans, turned around and gave 'em more bricks

[Chorus]

That first verse is just a dose of the shit that I'm on
Consider this the first chapter in the ghetto's Quran
I know a lot of niggas that get dough like Remmy and Joe
And Prince and Rightous from Hillside with the mole on his nose
Throughout my struggles through the hood, I started learnin
Life's a bitch, with a pretty face, but she burnin
Man I'm a get cheese like Chaz then run through wips like Cigar
Gamble all the time like country-curly head Prince and Tata
Po-po under pressure too, they know what they facin
Go against crews like B-Bo and killers like Patty Mason
A lotta niggas I know been corrupted since birth
Enticed to rob nuns for fun, for everything they worth
I know some cats that hail at old complexes like Cooley Wall
Together niggas stand and divided they fall
Round here, shook niggas they keep it in motion
Come around here with your rollie you can get robbed like Ocean
Lord knows, Tommy had loved and sold
Helicopters, Rolls Royces with Louie VaTonne interior
Might sound like I'm fantasizin, but son I'm dead serious
Montanna was no dummy, brought Benice to watch the money
Had money out the ass, he politic like the Asian
FEDs couldn't catch him dirty so settled for tax evasion

[Chorus]

Yo, rest in peace to Rich and Ron, money what they was about yo
The twins was some queens but got crazy cream with Alpo
Throughout my time I heard tales of Himey
Frenchy, Jamaican Pauly, Ducky Cally
Rodney Bump and Chick, shit
A lot a niggas flow the way I flow
but ain't been in the game all their life so don't know who I know
Writin rhymes is the best way I express how I feel
If I ain't rich by twenty-six, I'll be dead or in jail
Comin up I heard sippin to much booze'll leave you confused
And if you watch the news you see playas in this game that lose
I'm forgettin Lefty and Jazz, Pretty Tony and Lance
Head Lou, Mel son, Troy and E Money Bags
And a conversation over shrimp and lobster
And Benny Hiners heard Chico stopped boxin, and started robbin diners
Shout out to Clanvis and Clutch, Bob Dre, Black Will
If the flow don't kill you the Mac will


[Edit byCharmedS: Izmenjen Tekst]

"Whoo Kid Freestyle"
(feat. G-Unit (uncredited))

[50 Cent]
Yo this is 50 cent, yaknawsayin?
I'm here with my man Whoo Kid, you know how I put it down nigga
It's not safe around here as soon as the street lights
G-Unit nigga

[random shout outs]

[50 cent and G-Unit]
We can't get Money selling weed...WE GON SELL COKE
Ain't no money sellin' coke... WE GON SELL DOPE
Ain't no money sellin' dope... WE GON SELL X
And if niggaz wont by the X... WE GON SELL TECS

[Lloyd Banks]
My advice for y'all niggaz is stop frontin
'Cause 50 say pop somethin', I'm gon pop somethin', what up?

[50 Cent]
Don't make me send a nigga to you, 16 shot ruger
Send twelve shots to you, run four in the clip
Get in the whip, it's a wrap

[Lloyd Banks]
Nah fuck that

[50 Cent]
Man, you done hit the nigga twice in the head, that's that
Niggaz running with the steel out, now it's time to peel out

[Lloyd Banks]
50 let me drive

[50 Cent]
Nah I got this, nigga chill out

[Lloyd Banks]
It'd be nice to get the niggaz ice, get it, give it back

[50 Cent]
Just get in the corner store cause it's full of them A-rabs
They blowin' the shit up like it's okay
I got a bomb on my waist I'm Kamikaze [laughing]
I dare Ds to get next to me

[Lloyd Banks]
Or a nigga to creep up and put a tec to me [explosion]
Yeah, yeah that's it, it's a freestyle
The fuck you want for free?
Fucking A-rabs just ran the planes into the fucking building
Coke price went up 10 grand this fucking week

[Edit byCharmedS: Izmenjen Tekst]

"Stretch Armstrong Freestyle"

[50 Cent]
Uh, yeah, 50 Cent
It's Murda Mix Tape Vol. 3
Whoo Kid, Stretch Armstrong nigga
Take that, yo, aiyyo
Niggas don't wanna see 50 on a track
I got these cats that rap scared of me like I'm Ace and Jack
Fuck that, if I was you, I be scared of me too
Yo Stretch, roll the weed, while I tell 'em what I need
I need cream by the stacks, shells for the mac
Rims for the 'Ac, and a bitch to blow her back
I need the coke to come back, mad time on a jack
I got the Fendi sweaters, all I need is the hats
I need the police to chill, stay the fuck off my back
See a nigga in a Benz, sway peddling crack
I need a stash box son, so I could stash the gat
I need a stadium light, to leave 'em blind as a bat
Flipping from under my plate, while I'm running from Jake
I'm making mistakes, look I need extra pace
My man up north, need the new Stretch Mix Tape
I'm physically fit, nah for real son I'm in shape
I need that Beyonce bitch, to take me out on a date
Niggas follow my footsteps, 'cause everything I say, slick
But I need y'all niggas, to get off my dick
My description in three words, real witty cat
I'm in the club in ATL, I'm where the titties at
What, what, 50 Cent nigga, 2000 shit, Stretch Arm-Strong
Whoo Kid nigga, Whoo Kid nigga, Whoo Kid nigga
What, Whoo Kid nigga, this how it's going down [echoes]

"Doo Wop Freestyle"

Aiyo, I know these niggas don't like me
But I don't like none of ya'll niggas, you know what I'm sayin
50 cent, 9-9, motherfuckin doo wop
Volume 3, take it however the fuck you wan' take it
Faggot ass niggas (50 Cent show these niggas how to rock)

Yo, they done shot that boy down like a dog in the street
Left him smelly, man fuck that, roll em over take that fellas pellet
You ain't never heard a motherfucker spit like this
Not even puff, and that nigga there made crazy hits
Every few years a nigga come who crazy hot
I'm the next best thing since Biggie and Pac
Now I'm sayin this shit slow, so you don't miss it
Don't be a statistic, my jewels from the district
Stay with my biscuit, touch mines and get twisted
Son I'm off the meter, my mind locked on crime
See I'm tired of all these rappin niggas dyin to shine
And I'm tired of fiends askin for a dime for nine
Hearing this next punch line from me, may sound strange
You sit your 5-dollar ass down, before I make change
Yo the sale went stale, caught em real bad
Fresh out the jail, shit is really real
Niggas is still in jail, and I pray they don't tell
20-man inditement, my lawyer gotta fight this
Niggas know, I ain't never pressed for dough
And niggas know, I don't serve nobody I don't know
Son said he was from O.T., pay 11 an o.z.
My man brought em to me, see he ain't really know b
That it was hot, dude was a cop
He was just tryin to pop, to put the new beams on his drop
First I served him o.z.'s, then I served him whole keys
Now we all co-de's, damn man I O.D.
You know how it is on the street, niggas is holdin the heat
Po-Po walking to beat, we burnin l's up in the jeep
Ain't nothing sweet, we used to move so strategic
It's over I can't believe it, damn it's over
Fed's ceased the six, the Lex' and the Range Rover
Now a nigga rollin in a Toyota Corolla
Used to never get high, now I'm never sober
380-6 shot glock top load-up
Keep it in my waist son, I'll put one in your face
I ain't got nothing to lose, nigga so stay in your place
Just jumped bail, I ain't been on the run long
But it feel like a motherfuckin marathon

"U Heard Me"

[50 Cent]
Uh huh...yea

Verse 1
Shorty the Henny got me feeling right
Ya heard me?
My momma gone you could spend the night
Ya heard me?
I'm not playing I'm trying to fuck tonight
Ya heard me?
Clothes off face down ass up c'mon
Shorty you roll with the winners right
Ya heard me?
You see now me I got my money right
Ya heard me?
I'm tryin to teach you how to play, how the big boys play
When you come around my way
Ya heard me?
You see the Bentley got the 20 inch crome
Ya heard me?
You could get in but don't touch the phone
Ya heard me?
Money come money go I know
But everytime I flow it's mo money fa sho
Ya heard me?
In the street niggas sayin I'm nice
Ya heard me?
Watch flooded no more room for ice
Ya heard me?
Niggas be on tv struttin' hard
And in the hood the same niggas that be gettin' robbed
Ya heard me?
You might hear I get shot but I don't get robbed
Cause me, I be on my jog

[Chorus]
You like it when I back that ass up on you?

[50 Cent]
Ooh, baby I like it, I like it

When I work that ass, that ass

[50 Cent]
Baby I like it, I like it when you put it on me I got a Kool-Aid smile

And baby I like it, I like it

[50 Cent]
Everytime we dance you make it worth my while

And baby I like it, I like it

[Verse 2]
Shorty if you wanna roll with some ballers and shot callers
I wanna make sure you hear me
Ya heard me?
We rap now we rollin and I'm holdin'
And I'm gonna make sure you hear me
Ya heard me?
I freak off with the video chicks
Ya heard me?
Sweatin' tracks out in back of the 6
Ya heard me?
MTV they gonna play my hits
Ya heard me?
Even though I'm real ghetto and shit
Ya heard me?
I got a g niggas shoot that ace
Ya heard me?
Your ass bettin' I'm gonna cut your face
Ya heard me?
Last thing I need is to catch a new case
I don't know nothing about them high heads but I sell base
Ya heard me?
The city boys trying to kill a kid
Ya heard me?
Shot me up in front of my crib
Ya heard me?
He had the drop I couldn't run from him
Shot in the hand trying to take the fucking gun from him
Ya heard me?
Little homie saying "50 you tough"
Ya heard me?
9 shots just wasn't enough
Ya heard me?

[Chorus]

[Verse 3]
Nigga you best be commin' up with my cash
Ya heard me?
Don't make me go and get the Gat out the stash
Ya heard me?
I'll come back and pop one in your ass
Ya heard me?
Don't play wit the money, no not with the money
Niggas get knocked when they start playing games
Ya heard me?
Stop telling the police my name
Ya heard me?
I don't mind givin chicks them tips
Ya heard me?
They let me play with then tits and hips
Ya heard me?
When I come through they know I'm a thug
Out in Atlanta in the gentlemen's club
Ya heard me?
I rap but I'm still selling them o's
Ya heard me?
My man Mike still pimpin' them hoes
Ya heard me?
He said if the hoe knew better she'd come do better
And make a pimp more chedder
Ya heard me?

[Chorus]

[50 Cent]
50 make it crazy in the club
I'm speaking clearly so you can hear me
I come through niggas always show me love
I'm speaking clearly so y'all can hear me
Niggas want beef, y'all could see me in the street
I'm speaking clearly so you can hear me
But you better come correct, cause we move around with heat
I'm speaking clearly so y'all can hear me

"Green Lantern"

[gunshots]
50 Cent... Shady... Aftermath... the dream team
We gotta get the get well cards... niggaz is sick
Feel this... (non stop) ... [gunshots]
Motion picture shit hahahaha

[50 Cent]
Now don't think I won't hit you cause I'm popular
I got a P-90 Reuger to pop at cha
Catch ya slippin' i'ma give you what I got for ya
My clip loaded wit' 16 shots for ya
Ever had a hot gun on your waist and blood on your shoes
'Cause a nigga went and said the wrong shit to you
Homie you ain't been through what I been through
You not like me and I'm not like you
I'm like a animal wit' it when I spit it it's crazy
Got semi-autos to put holes in niggaz tryna play me
One shot is not enough you need at least an Uzi to move me
After four bottles of Dom the kid start feelin' woozy
I write my life you write what you seen in gangsta movies
I'm gangsta to the core nigga you can't move me
I found my space at the top I got this rap shit locked
I never heard of you you heard of me I murder you
Spit shells through your convertible
Lowest you notice?
Rich or poor hollows still go through your door, this is war
You scared of me you not prepared for me the kid is back
50 Cent... I know you like that
Yeah, I know you like that

Green Lantern... Shady Records...
Anger Management Tour... homie...

Yeah [gunshots]

"Elementry"
(feat. G-Unit, Scarlett)

[50 Cent] G Unit!
[50 Cent] A, B
[Scarlett] You can't fuck with me
[50 Cent] C, D
[Scarlett] We from the 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 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 grass 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 you 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 on the suine
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

[Edit byCharmedS: Izmenjen Tekst]

"Fat Bitch"
(feat. G-Unit)

We over here... with some fat chicks

[50]
Nah, I don't be fuckin wit them fat bitches
That's Yayo

[Chorus]
Don't be stuck on the things they say
now you know it's a nasty world (you know it's a nasty world)
I ain't fuckin wit you anyway
cause I know your a nasty girl (know your a nasty girl)
I ain't never gon discriminate
so let me compliment your eyes (compliment my eyes)
Yeah, It's nothin' but a little baby phat phat

[50]
Them Twinkies got your ass gettin' fat fat
Them cookies got your ass gettin' fat fat
That cake got your ass gettin' fat fat
Bitch you grown, that ain't baby fat fat

In the gym I see your ass up on the stair master
But you got it on level 2, bitch go a little faster
Look girl I ain't gon lie, I'll tell you how I feel
They should hand cuff your big ass to the treadmill
You wanna work out now, cause you know its gettin' hot
And your big ass fin to pop all up out the halter top
Find the right chick, wearing some tight shit, and it's on
See your ass wearing some tight shit, we like "She wrong"

[Chorus]
Don't be stuck on the things they say
now you know it's a nasty world (know it's a nasty world)
I ain't fuckin wit you anyway
cause I know your a nasty girl - You's a nasty girl (know your a nasty girl)
I ain't never gon discriminate
so let me compliment your eyes (compliment my eyes)

[50]
Yeah, you got some nice eyes, but you's a big bitch man
Yeah, It's nothin' but a little baby phat phat
That Burger King dun got your ass fat fat
McDonald's dun got your ass fat fat
That Dominos dun got your ass fat fat
Yeah, It's nothin' but a little baby phat phat

[Lloyd Banks]
I like 'em slim in the waste, curves in the right place
A bitch wit hips, lips, and a nice face
Your appetite'll put a dent up in a nigga salary
You need to stop burnin that weed, and burn a calorie
Your attitude is like you always have gear
You got a pony tail, you ain't always have hair
I just wanna see your Capri's comin' down
Mami we run the town, stay away if you 300 pounds

[Chorus]
Don't be stuck on the things they say
now you know it's a nasty world (know it's a nasty world)
I ain't fuckin wit you anyway
cause I know your a nasty girl - You's a nasty girl (know your a nasty girl)
I ain't never gon discriminate
so let me compliment your eyes

[50]
I'll say something nice about ya eyes, cause you's a big bitch man
Yeah, It's nothin' but a little baby phat phat
Them Entenmann's dun got your ass fat fat
Them Little Debbie's dun got your ass fat fat
These cup cakes dun got your ass fat fat
Yeah, It's nothin' but a little baby phat phat

[Tony Yayo]
I ain't no trick, I ain't have to borrow with my wallet
Freakin' off in your car, on your closet
It ain't nothing wrong wit a big, strong girl
If you can cook your ass off, I'll give you the world
You can be skinny or fat, white or black
Nigga pussy is pussy so, yeah, I'll hit that
I'm a freak, sure I love minage a trois
And I really care lees if you twice my size

[Chorus]
Don't be stuck on the things they say
now you know it's a nasty world ' It's a nasty world
I ain't fuckin wit you anyway
cause I know your a nasty girl - You's a nasty girl
I ain't never gon discriminate, so let me compliment your eyes

[50]
I'm a compliment your eyes
Yayo'll fuck wit you big bitches but I'm a stay the fuck away from ya

Them Twinkies got your ass gettin' fat fat
Them cookies got your ass gettin' fat fat
That cake got your ass gettin' fat fat
Bitch you grown, that ain't baby fat fat

Stay the fuck away from, you fuckin fat bitch
Fuck wit Tony Yayo, ho

"Banks Victory"
(feat. Lloyd Banks)

[50 Cent]
Yo, yo we can't stay alive forever
So if shit hit the fan then we might as well die together
I'm high as ever, more holes and more cheddar
G-Unit move around wit them pounds and berreta's
Yea faggot, if I want it I'm gon' have it
Regardless if it's handed to me or I gotta grab it
Don't make a ass outta yaself tryin to stop me
I'm cocky, raps rocky, nigga you sloppy
You know that I'm, 8 levels above you nigga
I'll club you nigga, I never heard of you nigga, ugly nigga
I'm the wrong one to provoke
You rattin on niggas is only gon' leave you smoke
So the only thing left now is tools for these cowrads
I got no friends, fuck most of these cowards
They pop shit 'till we start approaching these cowards
While we lay around dollars, they lay around flowers

[Lloyd Banks]
I got a intergangstress who argue and steams wit reefer
And who flip when I call a bitch like she Queen Latifah
Not all the vehicle's is long enough to stash the streetsweeper
This shit can get uglier than the Master P sneaker
We slidin through the ruckus, wit prada on the chuckus
Soon as spring break ho's home from college wanna fuck us
I ain't here to drop knowledge on you suckas
I'll sick rottweiler's on you fuckas, cops followin to cuff us
Top dollars to discuss this, whole lotta zeros
When it comes to paper I blow a soul outta aero
I'ma break before I lay floor berry
Besides, every rapper ain't a star, nigga plad ain't bulbary
You can't tame Lloyd, smokin by the big screen
You changin the channel looks like I'm playin the game boy
I know to watch botherin ya vision
You reach and I'll put a dot on ya head like its part of yo religion
Why party wit a pigeon?
I'm blowin a 10 cuz Bush handin flyers for a party in a prison
I'm in the gucci vest wit the green and red straps
I'm the last rapper to scare niggas since Craig Mack
Now every morning's a fast start
And there aint problem gettin dressed cuz my closet got more aisles than pathmark
Run, move startin a wave
and leave wit 12 shells in ya mouth like a carton of eggs
I'm the young pimp pardon my age
I don't got long hair but if I did she be puttin my braids
Niggas find what club they at
take 'em wit us, and run a train on 'em like a subway mac
get advances from grey agra
see these record labels got most artists gettin fucked like the gay rappa'
i go the college on the tour
I'm goin down in history nigga, next to Wallace and Shakur
I keep ya ammo clean, text polished in the drawer
Camera's by the hamper that mine into the floor
by now, you probably heard of me
fresh outta surgery, flashy as a fuck, you gon' have to murder me
Burglary, I'm leavin wit cha nike's bergendy, White T, bergendy
you match now, back down
niggas love to hate you, but love you when you disappear
catch me on the boat wit weed smoke and fishin' gear
heavy when I toke, C notes from different years
Besly in the robe, re-motes for liftin chairs
You ain't rich, but we glad to snatch ya
I send cars to crib like I'm a cab dispatcha
you better off wit ya stupid guys, lookin for a coupe to drive
you ain't gettin nuttin but ya french fries supersized
it's a damn shame y'all still local
I'm in a million dollar studio layin my vocals
Nigga

[50 Cent]
Still in the projects nigga, you ain't goin nowhere
you gon' fuckin be there for the rest of yo muthafuckin life
and yo momma said, I'm supposed to tell you somethin.....
to encourage you, somethin positive
aight well I ain't gon' lie to you muthafucka, he ain't goin nowhere
get yaself a beer, get on the fuckin curve
fuckin dirtbag