[Intro - 50 Cent + (Jay-Z)] (YES!) Yeah, ha, ha, yeah, yeah I know you hear the footsteps
[Chorus - 50 Cent] If I can't do well, homey, it can't be done Now I'ma let the champagne bottle pop I'ma take it to the top Fo sho' I'ma make it hot, baby (baby)
[Verse 1 - 50 Cent] I apply pressure to pussies, that stuntin' I pop Stand alone squeezin' my pistol, I'm sure that I gotta Now Peter Piper picked peppers, and Run rocked rhymes Now 50 Cent, I write a lil' bit, but I pop nines Tell niggaz, "Get they money right," cause I got mine And I'm around quit playin' nigga, you can't shine You gon' be that next chump, to end up in the trunk After bein' hit by the pump, is that what you want Be easy nigga, I lay your ass out Be-lieve me nigga, that's what I'm about, gangsta You could find a nigga sittin on chrome Hit the clutch, hit the gear, hit the gas and I'm gone (Yeah!)
[Chorus]
[Verse 2 - Jay-Z + (50 Cent)] Everybody wanna rhyme like Hov' 'Cause I rhyme like, I be rhymin' in the Rove', rhymin' in them HO! Ma like the diamond will blind you at the show I don't shine, I glow, I remind you of that dough Don't I, did I, hustle the game, just the thought alone Give me a boner, coach caved into a coma Can't out hustle a hustla You can't out play a player, this rap shit is a lay-up In my former buis' motherfuckers will spray ya In the music buis' motherfuckers, just say stuff Spit on ya sprayer, niggaz just play tough When the camera's on, when the camera's gone Niggaz wanna set up meetings 'Cause they know most likely when I see 'em, I'ma set up a beatin' Windows no tints, cars, no rims That's because we handle ours, like grown men I ain't touch ya wheels, sent I drove the Ben' That's 'cause it was a Coupe, nah I ain't suit I'm just telling the truth, you Tom Cruise You can't handle it, handle it, nigga is what I do I try to be modest, on "Blueprint 2" Y'all don't respect modest, y'all respect my dollars You gotta believe, I think like an artist But my bills through the roof, can't do numbers like The Roots (Oh No) No disrespect, I be tryna disconnect But niggaz keep pulling me back in, trapped in My pops gotta live wit this order, my whole live in disordered And I just got his living room ordered And you wanna why the chip on my shoulders Is more like a brick or a boulder, you understand maybe, when you get older Got a hundred niggaz on ya dick, saying you oughta Record like this or what have you, nigga's is back stabbing you Bitches mad at you, 'cause they can't have you Press wanna know about the daughter of Matthew Now it's back to the hood again, all Black hood again Back to old lady saying, what I coulda been Back to the gats, you forgot, I'm real good with them They gon' put a nigga in jail, oh well
[Chorus]
[Verse 3 - 50 Cent + (Dr. Dre)] I'm down for the action, he smart with his mouth so smack 'em You holdin' a strap, he might come back so clap 'em React like a gangsta, die like a gangsta for actin' 'Cause you'll get hit and homicide'll be askin, "What happened?" OH, NO, look who crept in with the FO', FO' Twenty inch rims sittin on LOW-PRO Eastside, Westside niggaz ALL KNOW, I'm LO-CO Even my mama said, "Something really wrong with my brain" Niggaz don't rob me they know I'm down to die for my chain G-UNIT! we get it poppin' in the hood G-UNIT! motherfucker what's good I'm waitin' on niggaz to act like they don't know how to act I had a sip of too much Jack, I'll blow 'em off the map With the Mac, thinkin it's all rap '