[Intro: 50 Cent] Don't wanna talk to you Don't know you Don't know how you know my name I got a reputation of police chasing You a bitch I let it bang Nigga you keep talkin'; I keep walkin' Fuck around 'til the heat talkin' Then it's your coffin
[Hook: 50 Cent] I don't fuck with you; you don't fuck with me (nah) Nigga, talkin' just ain't my cup of tea (yeah) Don't wanna shoot the shit; I'm a shoot a bitch Don't wanna shoot the shit; I'm a shoot a bitch
[Verse 1: Kidd Kidd] I don't fuck with you, and you know it, show it 4 Deep whips, stolen, rollin' Fo'-five, I tote it, blow it Leave your head split open, swollen Now it's all in your noggin, poppin' Deuce, deuce in my pocket, rockin' Break it down, rock it, chop it, if the feds come knockin' Drop it, Man they plottin' on my drug house Man, I hope they don't run in before I run out I'm runnin' out, I don't know who to trust now No dap, hugs, or \"what's ups\" now I don't fuck around with the fuck arounds You see me, get the fuck from 'round me
[Verse 2: Young Buck] I don't talk, texts I don't off bets I don't fuck with niggas ain't from the set I'm from the projects Surprised you ain't got robbed yet I really don't do no conversatin', no call waitin' I know ya'll hatin'; I'm cool with it On probation with no patience I hop out and act a fool with it Fuck who did it If you with it, then you get it Two to your fitted I don't fuck with none of ya'll anyway Your funeral could be any day Ever since I said send the Yay' You fuck niggas been' in the way I'm just doin' what 50 say Puttin' a hundred rounds in the K Buck
[Hook: 50 Cent]
[Verse 3: 50 Cent] My four-five, I grip it, grip it Work chef, and I'll whip it, whip it Four days, and I'll flip it, flip it Front off a meal ticket, ticket Hoes wanna come kick it, kick it Heard a nigga will trick it, pick it Up after we throw it, throw it Big money, we blow it That gangsta shit, we did it, get it Still do; we ain't new to it Boy, I ain't never gon' tell on me You bitch nigga, bet you do You talk a lot Niggas around here don't say much Niggas around here don't play much Soon as shit pop, they blame us Cause the money ain't never go'n' change us
[Verse 3: Tony Yayo] A lot of gun talk in the streets But real recognize real beef And real soldiers get the mission accomplished Never slippin', steady grippin', killin' for nonsense Sideline hatin', backbitin haters Catch you in your car like them red-light cameras Green light, what? Green light, woo My money cause a fuckin' Holocaust I green-light you