[Intro: 50 Cent]
I don't need Dom Pérignon, I don't need Cris
Tengo rayas [?], I don't need shit
Nigga, I'm out of the town, G-Unit!
[Verse 1: Young Buck]
We on the front page then we in the Bahamas with AK's
On the stage, the ice and the Jacob watch will make a broke nigga take something
So I gotta keep that four-fifth with no safety button, G-Unit get that money
I know some artists is starvin' so play the game like they rich to me, this shit funny
I know you see me coming, cause on the front of the Maybach it say payback for those that hated on me
I hate them niggas claim they bangi'n in gangs
You ain't a crip like Snoop, you ain't a blood like Game, see I've been havin' beef
I got my own bulletproof vest
Most of my enemies dead i got about two left
Until my last breath, I'm sendin' niggas bullet holes
Innocent bystanders get hit tryin' to be heroes
[Verse 2: Eminem]
Don't want the diamonds, want the gold, or want the jewelery He don't want the ring, don't want the loot he's in it for the sport
Running circles round his competition on the court
He appreciates your support but he ain't beggin' for it
And you can love it, you can hate it but you can't ignore
It
You can't be that ignorant but you can try to sell him short
But you can't fuck with his last joint or the one before it
And he was gonna raise hell like them country boys
And if you confront him then you better come confront me for it (I'm a warrior)
[Verse 3: Young Buck]
I feel attention when I walk in the club
G-Unit to the socks, bitches all on a thug
Gimme a Henny on the rocks, and a bottle of Bud
I don't need security, this old nickel enough
I came to ball wit' ya'll, pop the bar and all
So bitches call ya hoes, and niggas callin' you dogs (I'm here!)
If you love ya wife, keep her at home tonight
She might never come home again, nigga, aight!
Teeth, neck, wrists all ice, my life's like ridin' in Ca$hville
Runnin all stop lights, homie, it's that real
I pray I keep livin', my mama just had a dream of seein' me in prison (damn!)
My daddy's a dope fiend, and I don't really miss him (fuck him!)
Ain't seen him in 10 years and a nigga still livin' (c'mon!)
Tha same ol' two step we move to a rhythm
50, holla, get em' Buck, you know I'm gonna get em'
[Verse 4: Lloyd Banks]
The double-L-O-Y-D get put on an I.V
Tryin' to try me, the new age Ali
The black C-I-G resides beside me as smooth as an Isley
Sometimes I surprise me, you can't even ID
As low as my eyes be, I roll with the gangstas, don't get fly with your mouth
The wrong punchline'll have niggas inside of your house
Nigga, I'm doing good, I made it out of the hood
I own Beverly Hills, no more bottles or wood
That's a zipper that's sticky, California should whip me
I done made it this far, can't be mad if they hit me (shit)
[Verse 5: 50 Cent]
I'm a tell you what Banks told me, cause go 'head, switch the style up
And if they hate then let 'em hate and watch the money pile up
Or we can go upside there wit' a bottle of Bud
C'mon, man, you know where we be
You can find me in the club
[Verse 6: Lloyd Banks]
Before I leave the crib, I tell my mother I love her
Wrap the urn up cause she ain't concerned cause she's an earner
My bitch lays it out real nice for me to hurt her
We fight, wake up and fuck like Ike and Tina Turner
It's a privilege to ride with a celeb
Cause some girls over here don't got a problem giving head
Paranoia's on you, that's why your alarm is in your bed
Fuck a red Chinchilla and buy some mama for your head
On the block I'm from, niggas be damned near 40 and still tuckin'
And niggas' baby mamas is pregnant and still fuckin'
It's either cause they boyfriends is scrub like Brillo
Or cause Banks is cooler than the other side of the pillow
My chronic is blown for my niggas that got locked up and deported
So now they gotta go back home
[Verse 7: Young Buck]
Fresh off the jet and I breeze to the beaches
Blue Yankee fitted, G-Unit sneakers
I already figured out what they do with all features
Decorate they basements for the street sweepers
When it comes to stuntin' there's nothin' you can teach us
We in a different time zone, your records don't reach us
[Verse 8: 50 Cent]
When that window roll down and that AK come out
You can squeeze your lil' hand gun till you run out
And you can run for your back up
If them machine gun shells don't tear your back up
God's on your side, shit, I'm 'aight with that
Cause we gone reload them clips and come right back
It's a fact, homie, go on and get some, you're fucked
I get the drop if you can duck
Your lucky you heard of Lady Luck, look, nigga
Don't think you safe cause you moved out the hood
Cause yo mama's still around, dog, and that ain't good
If you be smart, you'd be shookin' me cause I get tired of lookin' for you
Spray yo mama crib and let yo ass look for me [gun shots]
[Outro]
Me for myself, I gotta watch my back extra because those niggas that like me
Nigga what, nigga what? We hold it down like we s'pposed to
