[50 Cent]
I, know, you, know
I'm, on, fire

[Chorus: 50 Cent]
If, you don't know, who I be
You better ask somebody about me
Oh, you want to be tough nigga, a look is enough
I put that snub nose to ya and bust nigga
If, you don't know, who I be
You better ask somebody about me
And they'll tell ya I'm a soldier boy
And I done told ya, over and over boy

[Lloyd Banks]
I come from a big city, the streets corrupt
Now I'm rollin with snub-noses to heat you up
Out here niggas'll do anything to reach a buck
Cause when you broke you can't afford to fuck ya sneakers up
I take my time, keep my mind on my bank funds
Learn how to separate the real from the fake ones
And on my heater nina rep what could I carry on
My nigga just lost his momma, and his daddy gone
From now on I can provide cause my paper's straight
Family losing his legs, but I can take the weight
Some niggas hate but I'll be damned if they hold me down
Front niggas didn't know me then, bet they know me now
Blunt and a smile, eventually it'll be a frown
Cause every time I turn around a nigga locked down
While I'm in the world, tryin to bring my loot through
Hopin one day we can kick it like we used to, my nigga

[Chorus]

[Young Buck]
They never seen 26's on a Hummer
My goal is to try to fuck Trina by the summer
Some niggas hate me, but they only made me
Go and put mo' ice in my mouth than Baby (bling bling!)
G-Unit and Shady, them dudes is crazy
Next time, we only using Dr. Dre's beats
Fuck you, pay me, take your magazine flicks
This ain't no Nelly here, take a good look at this
Got the wrists of a chemist and the heart of a hustler
Plus I probably done robbed mo' artists than Russell
Always in trouble, you can blame my mother
Gave birth to a gorilla and raised him in the jungle
I ain't crawled, I stumbled across the Mexican with birds
Papi had coke and new plates and pounds of herb
Keep my hand on my glock, and my ear to the streets
I'm a country boi, you can hear it when I speak
G-Unit!

[Chorus]

[50 Cent]
Bentley is all dreams, G-5 agendas
The hood'll make a nigga heart colder than December (yeah!)
Don't take much to make my gun go off
One shot'll make a hardrock look oh so soft (woo!)
If you don't know you better ask who I be
Or end up in ICU getting fed through a IV
Down in the Lou', they say they feeling me dirty
In New Orleans they say I'm that nigga, ya heard me?
From them South side blocks to Watts, West side don't front
You know about them Grape street Gangstas, G'd up
Rollin that weed up
Nigga get outta line, get shot stabbed jacked
Hit with a bat or beat up
Fuck that, we're on that same bullshit
Same forty-cally glock, same full clip
Pussy claat bwoy, ya nah want to tak wif me
I'm a real rudebwoy, ya nah want to ruf wif me

[Chorus]

Writer : CURTIS JACKSON, CHRISTOPHER LLOYD, DAVID DARNELL BROWN, PIERRE DAHAN, DAHAN
Copyright : Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, COPYRIGHT CONTROL (NON-HFA)