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[Intro]
Ha ha ha! I told niggaz not to shoot dice with me
Look at this stack, I got money, I got money!!
Ha ha ha..

[Intro: 50 Cent]
Ahh nigga don't trip, I'll kill you if you fuck with my grip
I won't hesitate to let off a clip
Ahh nigga don't trip, you gon' make me get on some shit
Run up on you quick, wet up your whip
Ahh nigga don't trip, you gon' get your monkey-ass hit
Runnin your lip, tryin to fuck with my clique
Ahh nigga don't trip, in case you didn't know who this is
It's 50 Cent bitch, G-Unit
Ahh nigga don't trip

[50 Cent]
I come through your hood, stuntin in my yellow Lamb'
Murciélago, top down, nigga damn
I'm the biggest crook from New York since Son of Sam
Cruisin, bumpin Buck's shit, Ruger in my hand
Thinkin the East ain't enough, it's time to expand
I plan to head out West and plant my feet down
A nigga big as King-Kong in the street now
I do a little house shoppin, and buy me a crib
It's palm trees and pretty bitches out in Cali kid
I touch the Hollywood paper, go and shoot me some flicks
Have some supermodel bitches come and suck on some dick
Mama'll turn in her grave if I married a white chick
But baby'll suck the chrome off a Chevy an' shit
Niggaz be wearin fake shines, I'm rockin a lil' charm
30 carats on the pinky, kiss the ring on the Don
Crack open that Cali bud, stuff the weed in the palm

[Chorus: 50 Cent]
And if you hustle, for me I'll hustle harder
I got what you need, them trees that hard that powder
My niggaz move G-packs, every hour on the hour
They shoot when I say shoot, so I'm in a position of power
You fuck around if you wanna

[50 Cent]
Where I'm from you learn to blend in or get touched
I don't need niggaz for support, I don't walk with a crutch
Niggaz know my steez, they don't fuck with me son
You got a appetite for hollow-tips, I feed you my gun
This is Ferrari F-50 shit, it's real laid back
Type shit you recline to in the Maybachs
I got two shooters now on the run from the fuzz
You get the same shit for 10 bodies you get from one cuz
I live life in the fast lane; hundred miles an hour
Chrome and some woodgrain
You know a nigga still really tryin to move 'caine
Make a little extra money on the side mayne, I ain't playin
I'm up early with the bird's word, puttin that work in
Pirellis on the porch chirpin, I'm makin moves
I got a hundred mill' from music, a hundred grand from crack
I'm goin to see my jeweler so I can blow a stack

[Chorus]