I love niggas! I love niggas! Cause niggas are me! And I should only love that 'presents me I love to see niggas go through changes (Whoooo!) I love to see niggas shoot through shit (Did it again) And to all niggas that do it I love
[Bridge: Eminem] I got 50 Cent, I got G-Unit D-Tweezy in this bitch, with Obie Trice! So watch what you say, 'fore you call our name Cause you say one more thing and it won't be nice!
[Verse 4: Eminem] Whoa, here we go, I shoulda known I was bound to get pulled into some bullshit Sooner or later you little haters Are too jealous of us to love us You hate it G-Unit made it and Obie's coming D-Tweezy's coming you're sick to your stomach 50 percent of it's 50 cent The other 50 percent of it's who's color of skin it is But if you even considerin' taking our label down You better find our building and fly a fucking plane into it But I ain't trying to get too intricate into it I'm just trying to you give you a little hint for your own benefit Cause then it's gonna get to the point Where it escalates to some other shit Then I'm a flip, then I'm a get to \"Stomping in my Air Force Ones\" But you won't be able to tell If it's two pairs or it's one It's just gonna feel like so many feet kicking you You'd think Nike just made these into cleats in this shoe I don't know what it is or what it could be But I get a woody when these pussies try to push me Thinking they gonna put me in a position to pickle me Y'all tickle me pink I think I'd just rather have Pink tickle me Hickory dickory dock, tickety tock tickety A little bit of the diggedy doc diggedy Mixed with a little bit of the With a pinch of Biggie Look at me, I'm just the bomb diggedy
We the realest label Don't try to act like you don't feel our label Cause we gon' fuck around and kill your label Obie, D-Tweezy, G-Unit, 50, Shady records We the label fa' sho! We the realest label Don't try to act like you don't feel our label Cause we gon' fuck around and steal your paper Obie, D-Tweezy, G-Unit, 50, Shady records We gon' kill your label fa' sho!
Back up chump, you know Biggie Smalls grips it quick And kicks it quick, you know how black niggas get With the hoods fatigues with the boots with trees Smokin weed, flippin ki's, makin crazy G's Hittin' buckshots at niggas 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 her wet, in her 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 That's real
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[Verse 50 Cent] When I was young my M.O. was to go hand-to-hand And 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 with 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 with North C. Papa 50 Cent, I'll break yo ass off propa' There's no place like home, New York - New York I run this city, I don't dance around like Diddy Niggas is giddy, till they act smack silly Or spray with the Mack Milly, they don't want drama really Pussy niggas get hard lip syncing my lyrics like Milly Vanilly Even 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, bump my shit, bitch.