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50 Cent
50 Cent

Настоящее имя Curtis James Jackson III
Дата рождения 6 июля 1975 г.
Откуда South Jamaica, Queens, New York, United States
Жанры Hip-hop
Gangsta Rap
Годы 1997—н.в.
Лейблы Interscope Records
G-Unit Records
Shady Records
Aftermath Entertainment
См. также Eminem
Sha Money XL
Сайт Website

Music World  →  Тексты песен  →  #  →  50 Cent  →  Дискография  →  God's Plan

Альбом 50 Cent

God's Plan (01.08.2002)
Ching Ching Ching
Work It (Remix)
. . .

(feat. Lloyd Banks )

[Lloyd Banks]
Marsh' knows man
Talk tough, 'til you get cuffed and start tellin', damn~!
Everyday I shot a new bitch
And when I'm done with her it'll look like...

[50 Cent]
At first they didn't want me, now they want me
See a nigga gettin' paid they wanna push up on me
You should see these hoes chasin' a nigga
I have 'em in the hotel tastin' a nigga
50 like a lollipop, lick me baby
Then lick Dr. Dre and Shady, OH~!

. . .

Yeah!50 Cent, Lloyd BanksTony Yayo, G-Unit![Chorus: Lloyd Banks]
This rap shit plays a major part in my life
So if you jeapordize it I got the right(What?)To send a motherfucker at you tonight (Uh-huh~!)
[Lloyd Banks]And I ain't stoppin 'til my click poppin, swimmin in barrels of money
Ma can walk around with her head up cause her child ain't a dummy
It's funny - niggaz'd rather see you sufferin and hungry
I'm comfy as hell, skatin with another nigga's money (WOO~!)
You lie your ass off; you know you ain't that tough
I'm pullin your mask off, as soon as you act up (WHAT~!)
You know what I came for, a peace of the game or
Artillery that's 'bout as long as a chainsaw
I buy the weight, but it still feels like I'm dreamin40 calender, my pillow kinda feelin my semen
The physical pressence of a female's the form of a demon
That's why I, fuck 'em and leave 'em get my nut while I'm breathin (YEAH~!)
If you thought they'd catch me slippin now I'm duckin and drippin
That's a thousand dollar outfit what the fuck is you grippin
You trippin, no record can get my ass in position
Death wish for no religon whether catholic or christianListen;
I went through momma bitchin in and out the kitchen
With probable cause as poppa was in and out the prison
We got soldiers, but you still gotta respect ours
We got more four-fives and 9's then a deck of cards
[Tony Yayo]You can take me out the hood, but can't take the hood out me (Cause what?)Cause I'm ghetto (I'm ghetto)
Niggaz hatin when you do good, but when you broke
Your friends and your enemies they love you (they love you)
Chi-Chi, get the llello (get the llello)Picture me bein cracked, out of town trips on the train - WHAT~?!
Chi-Chi, get the Yayo
Picture me bein cracked... (TONY YA-YO!!!) here we go
You can sniff me, cut me, I'll turn you to a junkie
I'm the number one seller in the whole fuckin country
Wall Street niggaz, they cop me on a low
White boys don't call me coke, they call me blow
It's time to go, on a bus, the train, a plane
I'm smuggle, I'm nuttin but trouble
I'll make your money double, cook me in bakin soda
I'll turn your who-rock into a new Range Rover
I'll pay all your bills and fill ya 'fridgerator
Feed your family, turn your man to a hater
You can put me in the door panels or your stash box
Put me in your Nikes, Timbs and ReeboksIf you copped three and a half, you hustlin backwards
Cop a hundred grams, you movin forwards (what?)
I'm tryin to move more birds, in P.A. all day
On the corner of 3rd - nigga what?!
[50 cent)You can take me out the hood, but can't take the hood out me (WHAT?!)
Cause I'm ghetto (I'm ghetto)
Picture me polishin pistols, I'm comin to get you, the shells hit you
You scream, think I'm playin - I mean it
Man I done brought all these pistols, let's get it poppin
Start to wavin my embroidered shell casings get to droppin
The devil's 'round the corner I got to much pride to hide
I'm outside, gun in my pocket, just stunt and I'll pop it
I'm dyin to pop it, I'm young and I'm restless, you numbered for death
As the world turns, the lessons should be learned
Count all my blessings, clean up my weapons, I'm ready for war
The strong survive, the weak shall perish, I told you before
Hoes they compliment me now like 50 - nice chain!
Belagio, twenty grand of chips at the dice game
Ballin out, can't stop it, you gotta watch MTVBET, nigga you see me~!!
I wonder if you mad, cause I'm doin good
Or cause niggaz feel me, more than you in yo' hood
And it hurts cause you love 'em and they don't love you back
Cause they know you just rappin and you don't bust your gat
You pussy!!Yeah explain it to the niggaz in your hood nigga
They know you fuckin front nigga
Talk all that gangsta shit on the record;
I see you nigga
Niggaz know me nigga; ask around in my hood nigga
Read the "Daily News" nigga you see them talk about me nigga
I'm in the middle of all kinds of shit
You pussy... get it poppin!
{NON-STOP... can't forget... Shady, Aftermath!}

. . .

[Young Buck] (chorus)

You not ready for me nigga you not ready for me
You not ready for me nigga you not ready for me
You not ready for me nigga you not ready for me
It's G-Unit and we bout to get this fuckin' hoe

[50 cent]
Yea nigga I'm the first one up
I heard you been talking mad shit
why don't you just step the fuck up
Get in my face and see whats happens
I'll take you out you wont know what happened like poof its magic
yea I pull magic tricks I'm like B rabbit
I beat the hell out of all you faggots
I do it big just like a real savage
Game wanna mess wit us we'll do it back
Fuck all this 'get rid of beef' y'all heard that
You wanna know whats happens when you mess wit G-Unit
You get dropped,shot and punched in yo shit bitch


[Lloyd Banks]

Uhh Yea
Sit down 50 man let me get on this nigga
he talkin' like he a G
But he don't wanna see me in the streets
Niggas get capped up, smacked up and killed
I like to do it gangsta style yea I do it for real
I'll be yo dentist get yo chest filled Wit bullets
Yea yo plan failed to ruin the G-units name
Lets do it like Trina and stop playin' games
I'm a spit heat flashes make you look like a lame
And when I head in the club hoe's give me they name
I'll do it like li'l' flip and say
You a lame so yo dame must be playin mind games
If you think you mess wit G-unit
Think about we go in the streets and handle our business


[Tony Yayo]
I'm back on that gangsta shit
When I'm in the streets y'all know who I'm wit
G-unit we kill niggas that talk shit
The Game has gotten so selfish
We the one's who put him on the map
Take this track rewind it like Boom Boom Clap
And you'll find out who's goin' get ya
we always goin' be on 106&park like yo twin Big Tigga
I hope you figured out why we made this song
Cuz you really don't want to fuck wit us we King Kong

(chorus to a fade)

. . .

G-Unit (What)
We in here (What)
We can get the drama popping
We don't care (What, what, what)
It's going down (What)
'Cause I'm around (What)
50 Cent, you know how I gets down (Down)

[Chorus: repeat 2X]
What up, Blood? (What)
What up, 'cause? (What)
What up, Blood? (What)
What up, Gangstaaa?

[Verse 1]
They say I walk around like got an "S" on my chest
Naw, that's a semi-auto, and a vest on my chest
I try not to say nothing, the DA might want to play in court
But I'll hunt or duck a nigga down like it's sport
Front on me, I'll cut ya, gun-butt ya or bump ya
You getting money? I can't none with ya then fuck ya
I'm not the type to get knocked for D.W.I.
I'm the type that'll kill your connect when the coke price rise
Gangstas, they bump my shit then they know me
I grew up around some niggas that's not my homies
Hundred G's I stash it (what), the mack I blast it (yeah)
D's come we dump the diesel and battery acid
This flow's been mastered, the ice I flash it
Chokes me, I'll have your mama picking out your casket, bastard
I'm on the next level, right lane forget bezzle
Benz pedal to the metal, hotter than a tea kettle, god (what)

[Chorus (1st time w/o first "What up, Blood?") (2x)]

We don't play that
We don't play that
We don't play that (G-Unit)
We don't play around

[Verse 2]
I sit back, twist the best bud, burn and wonder
When gangstas bump my shit, can they hear my hunger?
When the 5th kick, duck quick, it sounds like thunder
In December I'll make your block feel like summer
The rap critics say I can rhyme, the fiends say my dope is a nine
Every chick I fuck with is a dime
I'm like Patty LaBelle, homie, I'm on my own
Where I lay my hat is my home, I'm a rolling stone
Cross my path I'll crush ya, thinking I won't touch ya
I'll have your ass using a wheelchair, cane, or crutches
Industry hoe fuckers, in the hood they love us
Stomp a bone out your ass with some brand new chuckas

[Chorus (2x)]

[Bridge (4x)]

. . .

[50 Cent]
Hold upSon them niggaz know who hit that nigga son (I know, I know)
They - how the fuck, we gon' know who hit him, and they don't know who hit him?
The hood talkin man, e'rybody know~! (I know, it's fucked up)
[Intro]Now I lay thee down to sleep
Niggaz try and lay me down wit heat
And if I should die though before I awake
I pray my Lord my soul to take
[50 Cent]If dead men could talk in your sleep your homey told you who got him
Would you have the heart to shoot the nigga that shot him? (Huh?)
Or would you start switchin upv
You thinkin 'bout the penitentiary and bitchin up?
What if he said money ain't everything, the hood raised us wrong
All jookz'll get your money long but look here I'm gone
Would that touch your heart?
Have you feelin funny inside?
Would that be enough to make your punk-ass ride?
What if he gave you a little list of things to do?
Said he wouldn't have to die, he could live through you
Would you load the gats, and get ready ro ride
Or would you lock the door at yo' crib and hide?
It's a cold world even when it's hot outside
Whether sunshine or rain, you still feel pain
Hit him cause he was your strength, now you in a daze
Your homey turnin over in his grave... cause you PUSSY!
[Chorus: repeat 2X]"Y'all know who killed 'em, filled up" - B.I.G. {*repeat 3X*}
"Y'all know who killed 'em, filled up with the lugers from they Rugers or they Desert"(RIGHT~!!)
[50 Cent]Them boys smoked your homey, ye ain't gon' do nuttin back?
Not even if he told you you next to get clapped?
It don't take much for them shells to make the best of you
Your peoples gon' probably cremate and burn the rest of you
You done did too much dirt to try and make it to heaven
Nigga is you down for this 1-8-7?
When you reach the pearly gates, how you gon' explain
You gon' try and tell God you've been framed?Y'all did everything together, he was your dog
Now you Uptown coppin, and he in the morgue
Them niggaz he gave packs to, they kept the cake
His sister and his baby momma talkin to Jake (uh-huh)
Niggaz that rocked him, they came to the wake
But they ain't come inside, they sat out in the ride
At the funeral, homicide all in the buisness
Walkin 'round askin niggaz to tell 'em who did it
Niggas is throwin blows now you ready to rumble?
Thirsty niggaz are animals, the hood is a jungle
Broke nigga'll body somethin over a bundle
Man a three-year-old kid in my hood know what a gun do
[Chorus] - repeat 'til 15 seconds left
[Outro]Sha Money, XL!Shadyville, teamwork, music

. . .

I Been problem since the old days pimps and gold caps
now im in oj simpson throwbacks
ya'll was wonderin where my ass been
probally vacationin on south beach gettin head like ass
breathin through gas i can let the tech pound ur ego
lock you in the closet with the westnile mosquito
the press crowd the people espicially celebritys im heavily shittin on any tom dick or gregory
nigga you better be strappin
they want you dead if you rappin
im tryin to cave your head and your back in
im gettin bread and relaxin
and attractin a fan base of females wit emails and letters to fax in
in vegas with a toaster n a blunt
and the hotel i checked in got a roller coaster in the front
hollerin poster when i stunt the sammy sosa of the month
better yet the hoe teas and nigga im still breathin even though my dollars are green
i rap for the kids thats to poor to waste eggs on halloween
im gettin swallow clean
my habits are good collectin all the carrots i could
slidin from the stash box to conceal extortion
and a good silencer to make it sound like the wheel of fortune
all this careless talkin cause im travelin and flossin
havin a good time and u havin a abortion
you sucker for love gettin married and divorced than
you cant even afford the batteries for ur walkman
man im out the hood burnin cali weed on slauson when set trip can turn to tragedys and coffins, look
i mean what im sayin you schemin im sprayin ur team isnt playin
on the sofa screamin and and prayin sayin
gunit niggas be rollin crazy holdin 80s older ladies starin cause they starin in that gold mercedes
since 50 hooked up with shady
now they tryin to brook up to pay me
if u think im sugar u crazy baby
the boy strapped two ninas
smokin out a bag big enough to fit in vacuum cleaners
i wear a glove when i blaze a fatty,
i aint ur baby daddy, u flippin
now he tryin to grab me out that navy caddie, i aint ur avy,
poppa was a rollin stone,
stockin up the hona home,
pocket full of loaded chrome,
drop n get a hold a dome,
i know ur motive homes,
u mad cause im fuckin half ur motorolla phone,
im swift with the wemon im good wit my words, alota,
niggas is hatin on what i deserve im hotta,
front if u want end up on the curb in ur prada,
and ur mans runnin ambulance come,
another day another dollar on the low from the impala
i can have a six some in my shower, mother fucka!

. . .

Its beutiful how you walk
i cant take no shame in lookn
cause u be a hot mama cookn
let me just say u gots it good
u be stupid fly
and wanted by da brothers
in da hood

. . .

50 CENT:

G G G G G-Unit. 50 Cent nigga Tony Yayo (yeah)

(Drop That Shit)

Yeah and it don't stop,
I do a 187 on yo' motherfuckin block
Yeah and it don't quit,
It's G-Unit in yo' motherfuckin' ass bitch

Yeah and it don't stop,
I do a 187 on yo' motherfuckin block
Yeah and it don't quit,
It's G-Unit in yo' motherfuckin' ass bitch


They say good things will happen to those who wait
Shorty stuck in the game still slingin' weight
None of that's yo' life that ten in the brown
For XL six or seven fo' pound

Suede seats is hot but Italian leather is better
And with camera's in the mirror nigga cars costs cheddar
I'm on first class flights with flying cooks
'cause my verse sound nice when they flyin' hooks

Now im blowin' weed-o in Beverly Hills
Some bad free hoes in the Montreal
Next year it's the new Hummer
Stash box with the llama drive through in the blue data bomba

Heaven or Hell will prevail when I'm a goner
'cause I Eat up tracks Like Hannibal and Dahma
I'm the first one out, and last one on the corner
This life is a hustle any day you be a goner

P89 Ruger with the silence off
Little clipper sellin' spitballs goin' through straws
We got plenty of rap sheets but not on sale
We even got dillingers that hold shotgun shells

These rappers is talkin' 'bout bricks in they rhymes
You never did shit but some Mickey Mouse crimes
I don't respect it my work is never watered down
So on the first I get more checks than Nike town

Swingin' 31 Money's I been on the block
Since nigga's did the snake runnin' man in the walk
When I was 15 I didn't want no workin papers
I worked the strip all night, servin' niggers

Listen nigga, We live like Italians in jail
I got CO's bringin' cell phones to my cell
Get rich in the game, niggas out to get you
Fill you ass up with led turn yo' ass to a pencil

I jumped out with the Ruger rapid fire
I had you on the run like Omar on the wire
I'm the only rapper you know that stay on the run
I'm the only rapper you know that stay with a gun

I'm a hustla' OG's love to hate
'cause I got old school money put away in a safe
You can catch me in the hood where that dope and coke at
Or you can catch me in cali in the Hollywood throwback

I'm a bail jumper, you know them fish scale pumper
Fuck judge wong he gon' catch me on the corner
Nigga make poor attacks, homie ya owe me
You wanna rap we can battle for yo' see through rollie

I begin in a mansion stripin' the models
The bathroom's so far you gotta piss in a bottle
There's too many Indians and not enough chiefs
Why you buy all the gun's if you ain't got enough peeps

The shit I spit will cause an all out riot
In my new 4 fifth will cause a hollow tip die
Im the type to tie up your lady, gun butt your baby
Im like the mob nigga fuck you pay me

Im'a hide my assets, and disappear
Make a quick 20 mil and vanish in thin air
I've finished my work now its time to cop
And meet that Chinese lady at the baggie spot

I Need 12 12's
And 58 58's
'cause I got 8 sales
And they all gon' wait motherfucka
50 CENT:

Yeah and it don't stop,
I do a 187 on yo' motherfuckin block
Yeah and it don't quit,
It's G-Unit in yo' motherfuckin' ass bitch

Yeah and it don't stop,
I do a 187 on yo' motherfuckin block
Yeah and it don't quit,
It's G-Unit in yo' motherfuckin' ass bitch

. . .

{*set to B.I.G.'s "The World is Filled..." instrumental*}

[50 Cent]
Yeah... 50 Cent, uh-huh
Governor, G-G-G-G-G-Unit~!

She ain't that chick from the burbs that's a stranger to drama
She that Uptown Girl with the cock at the sauna
Went out her way to let her know that I want her
I told her I - know fo' sho' we belong together
And I wouldn't break her heart, my intentions are better
And I, shared the same dreams she had about cheddar
When the D's came she was down to hold the Beretta
I got a thing for baby girls, me and her against the world

[Governor - singing]
We used to think the same schemes, with the same dreams in mind
10'll bring you back 20 if the crook is on time
And she knows daddy loves to eat
Take a seat and let my baby rub my feet
She was a clear thinker, with a plan to rule the world
But understandin' her place is my girl
Talk about hardcore, to win she'd give her life
Or shoot to kill, to protect this life

[Chorus: Governor]
The world will hear, what's really goin on, in my life - my life
The world will see, what was really down down, in my life - my life
If you only knew, the pain I feel; if you only could feel the streets is real
If they only knewwwwww, what's goin onnnnnnn, yeah~!

[50 Cent]
You're sunshine, your smile make my day
It's simple - your dimple your eyes
Your lips, your thighs, got me hypnotized
Communication's deep, I love it when we talk
Hate it when you leave but when you leave I love to watch you walk
You make a nigga forget about a life full of drama
She got expensive taste, she get it from her momma
Materialistic; still a nigga want her
Consistently missin' her touch when she gone, uhh
She smell like Chanel, she feelin' me and I can tell
With the right woman by my side I feel like I can't fail
I've been around been up and down my attitude is fuckin ass
She a rider, I'm in heaven when I'm inside her
Workin' up a sweat, kissin' on her neck, "12 Play" in the deck
Fo'play correct, have her drippin' wet
She looked in my eyes and say she like it but I know she love it
I just keep doin' what I'm doin' and think nuttin' of it

[Chorus] w/ ad-libs

{*abruptly ends halfway during the last line of the Chorus*}

. . .


She like it she love it
She kiss it she suck it
She want me to want it
She want to climb up on it
50 Cent
Yeah... look

Look mami we can
Creep through the ghetto wit ya
Feet and stilletto take a
Cartlan party is when ya
Sneak in the meadow and ya
Can head to the house from the
House to thew floor
From the floor to the couch

. . .

[Tony Yayo]
Mmm, yeah, uhh
Mind playing tricks on me man

It's a, regular day and a regular routine
'Til I hear this tragic news from about two fiends
Your man 50, just got popped 9 times
And I heard through the grapevines it's all cause he rhymes
In front of his grandma, I'm standin' on the lawn
Wearin' no Teflon, I wonder if he gone
I know in my heart I wanna cry
Havin' thoughts in my mind is my man gon' die?
As I frantically run towards 50 spot
I panicky peep like fifty cops
It was blue & whites, DT's and homicide
With yellow tape locked off on both sides
With four-fifth shells on the floor
And DT's ringin' doorbells, goin door to door
Yo I'm stressed out, smokin' bogie after bogie
Duckin' the sarge cause the sarge fuckin know me
I jumped in Jeep truck and got a mac to spit
And we did about a buck cause Mary Mack I lit
at the time, I started thinkin' back some shit
How we used to sling crack and stack our chips
With Kev, P-Low, Big Jewel the Kid
And my man 50 used to smack a bitch
And the good and the bad on the 1-3-4
And them hoes that we had on the Cash Money tour
Now I'm at the hospital, stop daydreamin'
All I see is 5-5-1 and there's beefin'
Baby moms is screamin', whole family grievin'
But the word is, that my man's still breathin'
I dropped to my knees and I thanked the Lord
And got a long shit list all across the board
Motherf... {*ends*}

. . .

Shadyville Entertainment, Bad Boy collaboration

[The Last Poets]
I love niggas, I love niggas~!
Cause niggas are meeeee
And I should only love that which is meeeee
I love to see niggas go through changes
I love to see niggas, shoot the shit
But there's one thing about niggas I do not love

[50 Cent]
Yeah... did it again nigga!

[Chorus: Notorious B.I.G.]
To all my Brooklyn "Niggas!!"
To all my Uptown "You niggas understand!!"
To all my Bronx "In this world nigga!!"
To all my Queens bridge "Swept you away.."

[Notorious B.I.G.]
Back up chump, you know Biggie Smalls rips it quick
and kicks it quick, you know how black niggaz get
with the hoods fatigues with the boots with trees
Smokin' weed, flippin' ki's, makin' crazy G's
Hittin' buckshot at niggaz that open spots
on the avenue, take my loot, and I'm baggin' you
Pimpin' hoes that drive Volvo's and Rodeos
Flash the roll, make 'em wet in they pantyhose
Damn, a nigga style is unorthodox
Grip the Glock, when I walk down the crowded blocks
Just in case a nigga wanna act out
I just black out, and blow they motherfuckin' back out

[Chorus: 50 Cent - repeat 2X]
We the realest nigga
50 Cent and B.I.G. my nigga
Don't try to act like you don't feel us nigga
Biggie yo' nigga, 50 yo' nigga
Squeeze the trigger, leave a nigga fa' sho'!
We the realest nigga
50 Cent and B.I.G. my nigga
Don't try to act like you don't feel a nigga
Biggie yo' nigga, 50 yo' nigga
Squeeze the trigger, leave a nigga fa' sho'!

[Notorious B.I.G.]
Then we smoke spliffs, we pack four-fifths
Just in case dread wanna riff
He get a free lift to the cemetery, rough very
Not your ordinary, we watch you get buried
That's a real nigga for ya
Get mad do a quarter flip the script, and rip your lawyer
Spit at the D.A., cause fuck what she say
She don't give a fuck about your ass anyway
Up North bound first stop, Water town or Bitch-skill
Where the hand skills are real ill
You'll be a super Hoover doo-doo stain remover
Ha hahhh, yo chief, pass the Buddha


[Verse: 50 Cent]
When I was young my M.O. was to go hand-to-hand
Even my P.O. she called me the Ginger Bread Man
I catch a new case, and tell her ass "catch me if you can"
Don't let your people fill you up wit octane, I'm not playing
Get gassed up to get blast up
Real B.I.G. style watch the kid break it down
Check it - thou shalt not fuck wit North C. Papa
50 Cent, I'll break yo ass off propa'
There's no place like home, New York - New York
I run the city, and I don't dance around like Diddy
Niggas is giddy, till they smacked silly or sprayed wit the Mac Milli
They don't want drama really
Pussy niggaz get hard lip syncin' my lyrics like Milli Vanilli
In the hood they feel me {*gun cocked*} hah!! I'm on fire!
Niggas out in Philly they feel me, they bump my shit
Every bootlegger you know, pump my shit bitch!


. . .

[Chorus 2X: 50 Cent - singing]
She said she love it, she like my muuuu-sic
She like that I'm thuggin, she loves G-Unit

[50 Cent]
What? Uh-huh; she feelin the kid
Baby girl you can push me, pull me, scratch me, screw me
Holla my name out while we fuckin on top
You can ride like a rodeo, oh you freaky and I know so
I'm with it if you like it in your butt
She's a working girl
Get on top and let me see you work it girl
Don't stop - get it, get it
You can ride 'til you're satisfied
Thought of your lovin in my brain make me sing in the rain
(Peep what she said)


[50 Cent]
She like my music... G-Unit!
WOO~! Yeah... G-Unit {NON-STOP}

[Tony Yayo]
Man anything goes when it comes to hoes
Ma your feet look good, let me suck on them toes
And if your body smell right, let me lick all them holes
I bust a nut in your face and wipe my dick on your clothes
Baby - spark the blunt and light the incense
Now it's time to freak off with my project princess
Y'all groupies wanna talk, and send fanmail
Cause y'all see me in The Source and the XXL (ha ha ha~!)

[50 Cent - singing]
Everybody wants to be real
Still they wanna hide how they feel
Nigga you're supposed to be real
When niggaz find out that you're tellin'
Nigga you gonna get yo' cap peeled
Cause they get it, and now you know you goin' it
Truuuuuuuuuuuue, I know true thugs are hard to find
Just let me find you, fo' real
I'll put a hole in yo' ass with the blue steel
Keep yo' punk-ass from tellin' - HA HA!
Oooooh nigga you, tell on me
And you'll diiiiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeee-hiiiiiiiigh

You heard me nigga?
I said you, tell on me
And you'll diiiiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeee-hiiiiiiigh
I got somethin' for you nigga
I'll put my hood on it, fo' sho'
Ha ha, G-G-G-Unit {*echoes*}

. . .

Ching Ching Ching

[Нет текста]

. . .

(performed by Missy Elliott)

DJ, please pick up your phone
I'm on the request line
This is a Missy Elliott one-time exclusive (Come on)

Is it worth it, let me work it
I put my bang down, flip it and reverse it
It's your fremme neppa venette
It's your fremme neppa venette
If you got a big ***, let me search it
And find out how hard I gotta work ya
It's your fremme neppa venette
It's your fremme neppa venette

I'd like to get to know ya so I could show ya
Put the p**** on ya like I told ya
Gimme all your numbers so I could phone ya
Your girl actin' stank then call me over
Not on the bed, lay me on your sofa
Phone before you come, I need to shave my chocha
You do or you don't or you will or won't ya
Go downtown and eat it like a vulture
See my hips and my tips, don't ya
See my a** and my lips, don't ya
Lost a few pounds and my whips for ya
This the kinda beat that go ra-ta-ta
Sex me so good I say blah-blah-blah
Work it, I need a glass of water
Boy, oh, boy, It's good to know ya

Is it worth it, let me work it
I put my bang down, flip it and reverse it
It's your fremme neppa venette
It's your fremme neppa venette
If you got a big ***, let me search it
And find out how hard I gotta work ya
It's your fremme neppa venette
It's your fremme neppa venette (Come on)

If you a fly gal get your nails done
Get a pedicure, get your hair did
Boy, lift it up, let's make a toast-a
Let's get drunk, that's gon' bring us closer
don't I look like a Halle Berry poster
See the Belvedere playin' tricks on ya
Girlfriend wanna be like me, never
You won't find a b**** that's even better
I make you hot as Las Vegas weather
Listen up close while I take it backwards
I'm not a prostitute, but I could give you what you
I love your braids and your mouth full of floss
Love the way my a** go bum-bum-bum-bum
Keep your eyes on my bum-bum-bum-bum-bum
And think you can handle this gadong-a-dong-dong
Take my thong off and my a** go vroom
Cut the lights off so you see what I could do

Is it worth it, let me work it
I put my bang down, flip it and reverse it
It's your fremme neppa venette
It's your fremme neppa venette
If you got a big ***, let me search it
And find out how hard I gotta work ya
It's your fremme neppa venette
It's your fremme neppa venette (Come on)

Boys, boys, all type of boys
Black, white, Puerto Rican, Chinese boys
Girl, girl, get that cash
If It's 9 to 5 or shakin' your a**
Ain't no shame, ladies do your thang
Just make sure you ahead of the game
Just 'cause I got a lot of fame supa
Prince couldn't get me change my name papa
Kunta Kinte a slave again, no sir
Picture black sayin', 'Oh, yes a master'
Picture Lil' Kim dating a pastor
Minnie Me and Big Ren can out last ya
Who is the best, I don't have to ask ya
When I come out you won't even matter
Why you act dumb like 'Uh, duh'
So you act dumb like 'Uh, duh'
As the drummer boy go ba-rom-pop-pom-pom
Give you some-some-some of this Cinnabun

Is it worth it, let me work it
I put my bang down, flip it and reverse it
It's your fremme neppa venette
It's your fremme neppa venette
If you got a big ***, let me search it
And find out how hard I gotta work ya
It's your fremme neppa venette
It's your fremme neppa venette (Come on)

To my fellas
I like the way you work that
To my ladies
You sure know how to work that

. . .

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