[Intro: 50 Cent]
Yeah, n***as talking all that gangsta sh**
Acting like my money ain't no good in the hood; you know what I mean?
f**ing head blown off, n***a; you know?
[Hook x2]
They, they talking that
That gangsta sh**
They ain't about that
Man, matter of fact
Hand me my strap
Show me where they at
I'll stop 'em from talking like that
[Verse 1: 50 Cent]
I'm the topic in every barbershop and beauty salon
Cause these other n***as that rap ain't on the sh** that I'm on
Cause 50 this; 50 that; 50 stay with a gat
Thirty-two shots in the clip, hollow tips in the MAC
But when I come through, shh - the talking stop
My money long now, I can make the Pope get shot
Now, we can blow an hour talking bout the stones I rock
Or the hoes I got - catchin' stunts in the drop
Now, Nas, you love the kid, 50 on that k**a sh**
That big mobster bad man; BGF guerrilla sh**
I'm marking my music like diesel on the block
So if you with me you gon' eat, and you gon' starve if you not
Weed smokers love me like they love Buddha
I'll turn your kids to a shooter
Crip n***as love me like they love Hoover
They tell me see careful good, cause n***as wanna see like you
They ain't used to a G like you, BOW!
[Hook]
[Verse 2: Young Buck]
You think you a k**er but we gon' just pay 'em a visit
Put the potato on the barrel so nobody hear it
I keep a holster on my shoulder like I'm John Wayne
Shooting these n***as lights out like LeBron James
Holla my name; give me a reason to see you bleeding
After you feel these hollow tips, n***a, then we even
Full of anger until there's no more bullets in the chamber
Ain't nothing like when you get popped and don't know who to blame-a
n***a told me, "Do your dirt all by your lonely"
So I go hit them n***as 'fore 50 could even hold me
I'm waiting, anticipating to put a n***a under
Smoking like we some Jamaicans, f**ing with this ganja
Ride with no hesitation, retaliation is a must
Bad as I want to, some sh** I just don't discuss
So point him out and watch I knock him off
Everywhere you b**hes go, I got a n***a watching ya'll, motherf**a!
[Hook]
[Verse 3: Lloyd Banks]
Come on, n***a, I ain't here to make no friends; just cut the checks
I got a long pump that'll put your stupid a** out the steps
Begging n***as don't understand, no
Probably cause my hand glow when I'm anticipating' the lambo
Lean out my bucket for n***as thinking they Rambo
You get one warning, so I suggest you let your man know
These rap n***as portray to be tough, nobody acting soft
Til they laid out in the hospital, eatin' apple sauce
Usually for yapping off and turn apologetic
Waving a white flag, for danger they might have
My n***as buying so much ammo
If you reach in the couch for loose change
You'll probably feel on the handle
Holding sixteens to get your bandages and broke bones
So I suggest you get alarm systems in both homes
There's only one team on top; we number one with a Glock
f** around and get your dumb a** shot
[Hook]