[50 cent]
yo, yo we canand't stay alive forever
so if shit hit the fan then we might as well die together
iand'm high as ever, more holes and more cheddar
g-unit move around wit them pounds and berretaand's
yea faggot, if i want it iand'm gonand' have it
regardless if itand's handed to me or i gotta grab it
donand't make a ass outta yaself tryin to stop me
iand'm cocky, raps rocky, nigga you sloppy
you know that iand'm, 8 levels above you nigga
iand'll club you nigga, i never heard of you nigga, ugly nigga
iand'm the wrong one to provoke
you rattin on niggas is only gonand' 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 and'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 vehicleand'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 hoand's home from college wanna fuck us
i ainand't here to drop knowledge on you suckas
iand'll sick rottweilerand'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
iand'ma break before i lay floor berry
besides, every rapper ainand't a star, nigga plad ainand't bulbary
you canand't tame lloyd, smokin by the big screen
you changin the channel looks like iand'm playin the game boy
i know to watch botherin ya vision
you reach and iand'll put a dot on ya head like its part of yo religion
why party wit a pigeon?
iand'm blowin a 10 cuz bush handin flyers for a party in a prison
iand'm in the gucci vest wit the green and red straps
iand'm the last rapper to scare niggas since craig mack
now every morningand'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
iand'm the young pimp pardon my age
i donand't got long hair but if i did she be partinand' my braids
niggas find what club they at
take and'em wit us, and run a train on and'em like a subway mac
get advances from grey acura
see these record labels got most artists gettin fucked like the gay rappaand'
i go the college on the tour
iand'm goin down in history nigga, next to wallace and shakur
i keep ya ammo clean, text polished in the drawer
cameraand's by the hamper that mine into the floor
by now, you probably heard of me
fresh outta surgery, flashy as a fuck, you gonand' have to murder me
burglary, iand'm leavin wit cha nikeand'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 fishing gear
heavy when i toke, c notes from different years
besly in the robe, re-motes for liftin chairs
you ainand't rich, but we glad to snatch ya
i send cars to crib like iand'm a cab dispatcha
you better off wit ya stupid guys, lookin for a coupe to drive
you ainand't gettin nuttin but ya french fries supersized
itand's a damn shame yand'all still local
iand'm in a million dollar studio layin my vocals
nigga
[50 cent]
still in the projects nigga, you ainand't goin nowhere
you gonand' fuckin be there for the rest of yo muthafuckin life
and yo momma said, iand'm supposed to tell you somethin.....
to encourage you, somethin positive
aight well i ainand't gonand' lie to you muthafucka, he ainand't goin nowhere
get yaself a beer, get on the fuckin curve
fuckin dirtbag
