Monday, January 8, 2007

50 Cent- Power of The Dollar (1999)

Track -1: The Hit

Uh, uh, uh, uh, uh, uh

I change places, to prevent catchin' the cases
Races, in the faces, hall at you laces
This is a hit, let's see if homicide trace this

[Verse 1]
The only thing hotter than my flow is the block (inhale and exhale)
That's why I left this snow biz, and got into show biz
Let's get this clear, it ain't on 'til I say it's on, (pause), it's on
I'm eatin', ya'll niggas fastin' like it's Rimadon
Bowlish way in Lebanon, know 50 the bomb
I be at the edge of the bar, sippin' a Don
I keep the bottle just in case, you never know when it's on
This worries bump, I can't go wrong, my team's too strong
You want war? I take you to war, now that my money long
Why you broke? cat's buy the by lines and fantasize
The way I'm spittin', put TV's in everything I'm sittin'
While I'm hot to death, I'm gonna say this to all you playa haters
Ya'll should hate the game, not the playas (c'mon)

[Chorus: repeat 2X]
I change places, to prevent catchin' the cases
Races, in the faces, hall at you laces
This is a hit, let's see if homicide trace this
(50 Cent, let's see if homicide trace this)

[Verse 2]
Everyday is bugged, niggas'll come to a club
To try to show you they a thug, instead of showing some love
Now, what you think you chump me, If I let you bump me
When I'm about to make a mill, faster than you make a G (haha)
I know I lie, it's a habit, I vow to clean the city like the mayor
And in the crack game, I'm a franchise player
Niggas be thinkin' I be out to lunch with mines
Then in crunch time, I start hittin' 'em hard with punch lines
You cats got to be sick, to think 50 can't spit
Better check my batting average, I always make hits
My flows leave these rap cats ketro (ketro), all across the metro (metro)
Plus I pack a cannon, up under my marple cannon
They fake, they look like money, but ain't worth half the cake
Have me runnin' from Jake, in a GS with bad brakes
They want to knock me take, for Christ sakes

(50 Cent, let's see if homicide trace this)
I change places, to prevent catchin' the cases
Races, in the faces, hall at you laces
This is a hit, let's see if homicide trace this
(50 Cent, let's see if homicide trace this)

I change places, to prevent catchin' the cases
Races, in the faces, hall at you laces
This is a hit, let's see if homicide trace this
(50 Cent, let's see if homicide trace this)

[Verse 3]
Yo, son remember them fake playas
Who try to play us at The Shark Club in Vegas
Had them tight linen blazers, and beat up gators
Lookin' like last year's playas, (pause)
Yeah, I could tell they dough was low
When we came through the do'
I copped a case of Cristal, and copped one bottle of Mo
From the looking through face, and the bulge in his waist, he holdin'
(Yeah he's packin', I can see his rack
The one in the middle, he a big man, I dealt with him son)
Yeah, so I expect look like they ain't had a run, since ' 81
They ain't here on a hunt for food,
So they could catch you, some cash, and expensive jewels
I'm gonna crash 'em with this bottle if he move
I ain't the one son, my shit ain't come easy
It won't go easy, believe me

[Chorus: repeat 3X]
I change places, to prevent catchin' the cases
Races, in the faces, hall at you laces
This is a hit, let's see if homicide trace this
(50 Cent, let's see if homicide trace this)
Track -2: The Good Die Young

[50 Cent]
Yo, you know what I want? I want the beat to drop
niggas be thinkin' I'm crazy right?
you are crazy..
I ain't crazy...
you are crazy....
atleast I don't think I'm crazy
I think my shit is hot, I think I'm hot
you hot but you crazy..
why they wanna? don't know...

[Verse 1]
It's the money that - makes shit get ugly
It's the money that - makes these hoes love me
It's the money that - makes niggas wanna slug me
man..I thought the money would make it all lovely
Yo, I actually write what I do or see
the felonies from day to day make me say what I say
when I die my art will be worth more than Picasso's
Don't cry for me, smile for me
and if you see them niggas that wet me, wile' for me
remember the good times, the chips we stacked
the clips we packed
and all the bricks we cooked from coke to crack
let my tombstone read "I Tried" and from the start
everything I wrote was from my heart
so it'll always be number one on my chart
I get sensitive with my shit, don't fuck with my art
sometimes it sounds like I'm playin' but I'm sayin'
this shit is real, it ain't a game.

[Chorus - repeat 2X]
They say the good die young
I guess these grimy niggas live a long time
Sit in fancy whips, sip champaigne and shine
Keep your eyes on yours while I keep my eyes on mine

[Verse 2]
First it happened to Stretch then to Pac and Big
I'm convinced it can happen to anybody kid
so I get vest up when I get dressed up
in the hood it's messed up, niggas runnin' 'round shootin' shit up
if it's Dom that you drinkin' fill up my cup
if you got somethin' to doubt me, shut the fuck up
why do niggas act like they hard when they know they butt?
and gettin' robbed ain't a good time to press ya luck
duke listen, if you move I'm'a hurt you
you'll get your turn to shine later, patience is a virtue
right now what you need to do is gimme the cash
forget about your Boss bein' mad, just save ya ass
be a good Boy now, go and get your stash
I seen you throw it next to the garbage can like it was trash
alright run along before I shoot ya ass
I hate to do this to you but I really need this cash.


[Verse 3]
I know we all gotta go, but I'd hate to go fast
then again I don't think it'd be fun to stick around and go last
man listen, if you really really like this shit
nigga call Steve Stoute and I'll write ya shit
call him now before I drop for real 'cause after I drop
I'm'a be chargin' ya'll niggas like Forty a pop
to each his own, me? I got it while it was cheap
typical mentality, I know, I'm straight from the street
1999's the year of the predator, I'm killin' to eat
niggas'll treat you like a egg, you come to cop you get beat
gimme your dough, oh, you wore your jewels? what a treat
you're a generous guy
take 'em off or die
man, we hurtin' 'round here, ain't nobody slingin' pies
look around, ain't nobody 'round here fly
why you 'round here with this shit anyway? huh? you high?
see, you done made the wrong move, kiss your ass goodbye.


Track -3: Corner Bodega

[50 Cent]
Aight, check this shit out
Y'all niggaz gon' stay in the car
I'm'a go right over here and see somethin
Gimme ten minutes, If I don't come out, y'all come in
The money stays in the car 'til I say so...
Aiyyo, whattup whattup, man
This is what y'all niggaz is workin' wit' for 22 cents a gram?

Man, when I come up in here treat me like I'm fam
I could go Uptown and get this shit for 16 cents a gram
Bottom line is, man, I gotta cop and go
I got a spot and I can't afford to stop the flow
Poppi, what the fuck is the matter wit' ya Man?
Standin' against the wall with a gun in his hand
I ain't on no funny shit I'm on some get this money shit
Every four days in PA I move another brick
According to the DA I sold dope in VA
my crew stay in Queens but my plates say VA
I'll show you where I rest at, it aint hard to find me
Let me buy a brick and get the other on cossimy
(Hey, this life is hard man) I know, don't remind me
If I catch another case I'ma kill Guiliani
It ain't even safe to sell a pack at night
Got task ridin 'round the projects on Mountain Bikes

[Chorus - repeat 2X]
NY ain't the same, it's OT playa
you can go and cop coke from the corner Bodega
hit the highway and take it to a town near you
And get that money man, get that money man

[50 - singing]
Now, if you come to 1-3-4 and I'm not around
That means I copped and I went outta town
You motherfuckers know how I get down
About my money man, about my money man

Track -4: Life's on The Line

Nobody likes me
Nobody likes me, but that's okay
Cause I don't like y'all anyway
... And I don't like y'all anyway
Fuck all y'all!!
My watch talk for me, my whip talk for me
My gat talk for me
BLAT! Whattup homie
For bitches who don't know me
... They wanna blow me
Cause the shit I floss wit sayin a lot for me

[Verse One]
I came into rap humble, I don't give a fuck now
Serve anybody like niggaz who hustle uptown
Coke price go up, cats is come down
The D's run in my crib, I'm nowhere to be found
The bitch who hustle for me, they dont even stash tracks
They keep it on 'em, right there in they ass crack
When I don't like a nigga, I don't pretend to
I'll have the paramedics wrap your fuckin head like a Hindu
Look, I ain't goin nowhere, so get used to me
OG's look at me and see what they used to be
I'm that nigga that sold coke, the nigga that sold dope
The nigga that shot Dice when he broke to So So
The thug, they pop shit, the thug that pop clips
The thug that went from three and a half to whole bricks
Nigga ain't in his right mind, goin against me
My picture's painted through words that make a blind man see

Scream murder! (I don't believe you!)
Murder! (Fuck around and leave you!)
Murder! (I don't believe you!)
Murder, murder! (Your life's on the line!)

[Verse Two]
Y'all niggaz don't want no parts of me
I'm tryna figure out how y'all started me
Make me catch her on the late night
Pop shots wit the fifth and slide off wit the six
I'm not a marksmen while spark issue, I spray random
Not a pretty nigga but my moms think I'm handsome
I hate to hear "He say, She say" shit
Unless he say she say she on my dick
It's no coincidence, niggaz who fuck wit me get shot up
I do a Cali style drive by and tear ya block up
You soft through, be puttin up a crazy front
I stay wit the Mac, cause niggaz tried to blaze me once
In the hood they be like, "Damn, 50 really spitted on 'em"
"You heard that shit?" "Yeah, 50 really shitted on 'em"
Beef, you don't want none, so don't start none
You just a small player in this game, play a part son


[Verse Three]
These cats always escape reality when they rhyme
That's why they write about bricks and only dealt wit dimes
Leave it to them, and they say they got a fast car
Nascar, truck wit a crash bar, and TV's in the dash, pa
See 'em in the five wit stock rims, I just laugh, pa
I catch stunts when I ain't tryin
I ain't lyin, I sit Dom P til I split up
Keep my rent split up
Get outta line, I get you hit up [Wooo!]
Now if you say my name in your rhyme, watch what you say
You get carried away, you can get shot and carried away
Now here's a list of MC's that can kill you in eight bars:
50, umm Jay-Z and Nas
I'ma say this shit now and never again
We ain't buddies, we ain't partners and we damn sure ain't friends
The games you playin, you get killed like that
Actin like you all hard, you ain't built like that
See me when you see me nigga, one (one)


Y'all niggaz don't want no parts of me
I'm tryna figure out how y'all started me
You gon make me catch her on the late night
Pop shots wit the fifth and slide off wit the six

Track -5: That Ain't Gangsta

Verse 1:
How you gonna take this? like a Man or a bitch?
you gon' get it on nigga or you gon' snitch?
I represent niggas in the hood gettin' rich
man, I stack chips and I unload clips
after 3 Summers in the joint I thought life was hard
some niggas started fightin', some niggas found God
you know me, started sellin' leek in the yard
yo, I ran into niggas who used to have Hummers
big as Hell in the joint wearin' '86 numbers
damm Dog, you been in here that long?
you could think that, but say that and yo' ass is dead wrong
a convo is only three words, "yo whattup"
you ain't gotta work out to leave this bitch cut up
let a nigga find out you on some goin' home shit
and you tryin' to bounce without payin' a loan, shit
some niggas beat cases on the strength of they cream
after the witnesses disappeared on the strength of they team
I'm hard as Hell to get along wit' so it never fails
a nigga I got beef with end up in the same jail
he had a L rolled in bible paper blowin' the lye
I sent him a little kite just to be blowin' his high
and when I shot you in NewYork why would I box you now?
If I catch you in the yard I'm'a ox you down
niggas you think is real really can't hold they own
I'll have 'em on some E.T. shit tryin' to phone home
in here a gemstar is like a Nine Milly chrome
it's similar, infact they'll both split ya dome
scars are souvenirs, niggas always take 'em home.

Chorus -
You got blown over the jack? (that ain't gangsta)
Your Man ran when you got clapped? (that ain't gangsta)
rockin' a vest with no gat? (that ain't gangsta)
you only a thug when you rap? (that ain't gangsta)
niggas jooked you for your track? (that ain't gangsta)
you ran to other thugs to get it back? (that ain't gangsta)
niggas ran off with your packs? (that ain't gangsta)
If you ain't bustin' ya gat (that ain't gangsta)

Verse 2:
You'd call me an Animal if you seen me livin' on lock
I stay in a box cats be shook when I'm visitin' pop-ulation
when I walk by, niggas like "Fifty don't play Son"
"yeah, somethin' really wrong with that nigga..."
max out, I'm goin' straight for the glock
bust a u-turn, I'm goin' straight to the block
the things that'll happen if niggas say I can't eat
down goes the window....out goes the heat
I'll make the whole block look like a fuckin' trackmeet
some get it in the leg, some get it in the back
some get it in the foot, bleed all over their airmax
nigga pump my packs or pay poor tax
it's extortion, it happens in the hood often
claim more lives than choices, free abortions
Rich Nice says I got a problem with the dice
'cause I put the title to the Benz on the line twice
I rock shit 'cause I stay on that block shit
that 9mm Ruger to your knot shit
see the difference is I'm real and you not, kid
I still stash crack money in my sock, shit
ya'll niggas wanna pop shit? I pop clips
leave with your blood on my mink in the drop Six
Guiliani and Pataki can't stop this
since '86 my whole clique pop Criss.

What the fuck you know about that?

Track -6: As The World Turns

(50 Cent)
uhh..uh huh uh huhh...uh huh uh huhh...uh huh uh huhh..uh uh uh uh
uh huh uh huhh...uh huh uh huhh...uh huh uh huhh..uh uh uh uh

Money make a pimp, pimp hoes, hustlas sell dope, thugs gun smoke
Money make the world go round, as the world turns
Money make the world go round, as the world turns
Nigga I need money to main-tainn
Hustalin aint a gamee
Nigga go and gets the grainn
Gon' get tore out the framee
T.Vs in the Rangee
I'm in ta nice thanggs I slang weed (snort)
Coc-ainee and Herio-anee
50 Cent
Thats my namee
Nigga I bring the painn
You thought shit stay the samee
Nigga shit gon' change
Put a bullet in your brainn
Nigga at close range
Run away wit ya rollie, your rings, and your motherfuckin chainn
Aint nuittin funny mangg
I'm about my money mangg
Bitch get down on that track and get my money, I aint playinn
Better understan what I'm sayin,
What I'm sayin, I aint playin
I'll be, In front of your crib, layin, wit the mack ta start sprayinn
Any nigga thats in the game, for the fame, gotta be a lamee
Crackers'll put ya in chains
Box'll drive you insane
Sun cant shine all the time, man its gotta rain
That whole loose? is ill
You better crack the whip mang

(Chorus - 50 Cent)
A pimp aint a pimp with no hoes (hoes)
A hustla aint a hustla with no motherfuckin dough (dough)
A thug aint a thug if his gun dont smoke (smoke)
A playa aint a playa if his ass dead broke (broke)

A pimp aint a pimp with no motherfuckin hoes (hoes)
A hustla aint a hustla with no motherfuckin dough (dough)
A thug aint a thug if his gun dont smoke (smoke)
A playa aint a playa if his ass dead broke (broke)

(50 Cent)
I live
Life in the fast lane
Man I aint got nuttin ta lose
Everythin a game
Either you wit me or against me man aint nuttin changee
Nigga, you
Go against the grain
I'll make you
Walk wit a cane now nigga now
Who you gon' blamee
When shit aint the same
Nigga nobody hears your namee
You got down wit a gangg
O thirty-one blood
Ya'll niggas do your thang
You got 2 felonies
Fuck it, go out wit a bangg
Ya'll niggas wanna hangg
Wit niggas that fitlthy rich
They aint even got ta talk
To take your bitch
One look was all it took
She seen the benz-o
She seen them T.Vs
And them big ol' chriz-omes
A-yo the bitch useta bring you dough
Useta be your bottom hoe
Now your paper comin' slow
She feel like she had ta go
Roll wit them rich niggas and ball with them ball-az
Politic wit the willies the real shot call-az

(Bun B)
I got one life to live
Follow that light that keeps on guidin me
Hate-az tryin me
Hoes is a-bidein me
Media ride me
King a the underground
So the streets is steady hide-in me
Representin sure taste-az
The yay keep takin pride in me
Deciple slide-in me
Status reports the badest you caught
Walk in the black top wit fat rocks and had his newport
I cant stay away like Too $hort
I gots ta break a bastards back
Tore em up, get em ready ta port
Put em on the master track
I blast the facts the life in the grill
Gorilla pimpin
If I have ta mack ya wife then I will
It's me and 50 Cent my nigga
Live in trife, and thats real
Talkin shit on us, thats like pullin out a knife and dont kill
Thats on for treal (?)
I'm on for million wit your pit, in the clit that shit true
I split through, your defences, so relentless, get you, without you even
Got you strippin and even hoe-in
You dont wanna let the pro in the door
This what we showin

A pimp aint a pimp with no motherfuckin hoes (hoes)
A hustla aint a hustla with no motherfuckin dough (dough)
A thug aint a thug if his gun dont smoke (smoke)
A playa aint a playa if his ass dead broke (broke)


(50 Cent)
Is your bitch your bitch or is your bitch mines?
Is your bitch your bitch all the time?
You done got your paper, now its time I get mines
Except the serve and everything'll be fine

(50 Cent talking over beat)
Runnin from pimpin...bitch you need to run TO some pimpin
Wit them cheap ass payless shoes you got on hoe
You still aint figured out what a hoe supposed to look like
Look at you motherfucka here
Huh bitch?
How you gunna catch some dates lookin like that hoe?
Bitch get off the sidewalk and into the street
Bitch the sidewalk is for pimpin bitch!


Track -7: Ghetto Q'ran (Forgive Me)

Uh huh, uh huh, uh huh
Southside, what y'all niggas know about the dirty south?
One time

Lord forgive me, for I've sinned
Over and over again, just to stay on top
I recall memories, filled with sin
Over and over again, and again

Yo, when you hear talk of the southside, you hear talk of the team
See niggas feared Prince and respected Preme
For all you slow muthafuckas I'm a break it down iller
See Preme was a business man and Prince was the killer
Remember, he used to push the bulletproof BM, uh huh
This here get ya seasick, I sat back and peeped shit
The roll with Easy Rider and they ain't get blunted
Had the whole projects workin for fifty on five-hundred
As a youth, all I ever did was sell crack
I used to idolize cat
Heart me in my heart to hear that nigga snitched on Pat, how he go out like
Rumors in the hood was ?? was snitchin
I ain't believe that, pa, he helped me cop my first GSX-R
Had the four-runner, the Z, the 5 and the 3
Used to drive his truck through the hood draggin jet skis
From Gerald Wallace to Baby Wise, don't be suprised
Of how freely I thought of names of games who dealt with pies
Like L-A-N-Y's, L got shot in the neck, then told us connect
Them niggas who shot 'em got 'em for ten bricks
Fuckin Dominicans, turned around and gave 'em more bricks


That first verse is just a dose of the shit that I'm on
Consider this the first chapter in the ghetto's Quran
I know a lot of niggas that get dough like Remmy and Joe
And Prince and Rightous from Hillside with the mole on his nose
Throughout my struggles through the hood, I started learnin
Life's a bitch, with a pretty face, but she burnin
Man I'm a get cheese like Chaz then run through wips like Cigar
Gamble all the time like country-curly head Prince and Tata
Po-po under pressure too, they know what they facin
Go against crews like B-Bo and killers like Patty Mason
A lotta niggas I know been corrupted since birth
Enticed to rob nuns for fun, for everything they worth
I know some cats that hail at old complexes like Cooley Wall
Together niggas stand and divided they fall
Round here, shook niggas they keep it in motion
Come around here with your rollie you can get robbed like Ocean
Lord knows, Tommy had loved and sold
Helicopters, Rolls Royces with Louie VaTonne interior
Might sound like I'm fantasizin, but son I'm dead serious
Montanna was no dummy, brought Benice to watch the money
Had money out the ass, he politic like the Asian
FEDs couldn't catch him dirty so settled for tax evasion


Yo, rest in peace to Rich and Ron, money what they was about yo
The twins was some queens but got crazy cream with Alpo
Throughout my time I heard tales of Himey, Frenchy, Jamaican Pauly, Ducky
Rodney Bump and Chick, shit
A lot a niggas flow the way I flow
but ain't been in the game all their life so don't know who I know
Writin rhymes is the best way I express how I feel
If I ain't rich by twenty-six, I'll be dead or in jail
Comin up I heard sippin to much booze'll leave you confused
And if you watch the news you see playas in this game that lose
I'm forgettin Lefty and Jazz, Pretty Tony and Lance
Head Lou, Mel son, Troy and E Money Bags
And a conversation over shrimp and lobster
And Benny Hiners heard Chico stopped boxin, and started robbin diners
Shout out to Clanvis and Clutch, Bob Dre, Black Will
If the flow don't kill you the Mac will


Track -8: Da Repercussions

Uh huh, Uh huh, five, five, one...., it's real shit nigga

You niggaz say somethin' slick, you'll get SLAPPED for that
You niggaz schemin' on some jewels, you'll get CLAPPED for that
If y'all niggaz want war, I got the MACK for that
Run up with some work, and get your head TRACKED for that

[Verse 1]
Nigga if a nickel bag sold in the park, I want in on it (uh huh)
The bullshit I'm in right now nigga, I've been on it (yeah)
If I don't eat, nobody eat, code of the street
No surrender, no retreat, my niggaz rollin' with heat (woo)
You'll know my stees, I spark trees, under palm trees
Feel a breeze, and fees, in expanded keys (uh)
Cop it straight from the bay, tap dance on the yay
Your people make a G day, you ain't rich, you just ok
I take the stand under oath and lie
Before I snitch on my clique, I'll fry
Or watch time go by
Niggaz want to steal slabs, and dib or dab
In the posse, who steals from the hands that feed 'em, deserve to die

[Chorus] - 2X

[Verse 2]
You gettin' money nigga (yeah), you dimed out (yeah)
Well 50 Cent is the hottest shit out this (yeah)
You bust your gun nigga (yeah), you on the run nigga (yeah)
You treat a grown man, like he ya son (nigga)
Yo, I ain't the first parolee, to catch his nigga for his rolee
And after being on the street, less than a week (uh huh)
Look, niggaz who know me, know I'm up to no good
Man my fan base is spreading like HIV in the hood
Why smack a nigga silly, when I can squeeze the nilly (squeeze that shit)
A slug'll split a niggaz ass, worst than the philly
I stay with the heater, cut the D with Bonita
My wifey kept acting up, so I had to leave her (woo)
It hurted when I left, but I knew I didn't need her
If it wasn't for my seed, I wouldn't even hafta see her
She tried to front like she don't need me, she miss me, believe me
It's that soap opera shit, the bitch watch too much TV

[Chorus] - 2X

[Verse 3]
Aight you niggaz tryin' to do too much (STOP FRONTIN')
Them little bit of chips you got son, (AIN'T NOTHIN')
I seen you with your whip outside son (YOU STUNTIN')
You spent your last on that (YOU AIN'T HOLDIN' NOTHIN')
Rap niggaz, they actin' like they ready to flip
When I let off a clip, it ain't a part of the script
Its like tradition, rap niggaz, dyin' they whips (dyin' they whips)
So I spent a little chips, to bulletproof my shit (bulletproof my shit)
You a 6 coupe nigga, but you years behind (years behind)
Nigga yours a 92, mine's a 99 (mine's a 99)
Your not in my league, the ghetto taught me tools to succeed
Shall up a seed, I'll write it down so you can read
If you've been listening, I know you like loving what I said
If not you dumb fuck, I just run over your head

[Chorus] - 2X

[*Singing throughout the entire song, and by itself until fade*]

Track -9: Make Money By Any Means

(Chorus - 50 Cent)
It ain't easy to make money (Whoo)
So now everybody wanna take money (Uh huh, uh huh)
You ain't a thug, matter fact you a fake money (Take money, uh)
Fuck wit mines, I'ma view you at ya weight money
It ain't a game

(Verse 1 - 50 Cent)
You can call me player yeah, but I ain't playing fair (Uh huh)
Takers say I'm the hottest thang comin' this year (No doubt, ha ha ha)
In the hood niggas know, how I handle my problems
I walk up close, and I fo', fo' revolve 'em
Don't make me run to you, put the gun to you
Have yo ass on Phil Donahue explaining what the fuck I done to you
Thug niggas in the street saying I'm sunning you
Dude I'll smoke you every motherfucker under you
People say chill, but still I do, what I wanna do
For now on, when I speak, y'all niggas better listen
Why run against a thoroughbred when you ain't in no condition
Still got shit on ya nose, from all that ass you been kissing (hahaha)

(Chorus x2 - 50 Cent w/ Noreaga in background)
It ain't easy to make money
So now everybody wanna take money
You ain't a thug, matter fact you a fake money
Fuck wit mines, I'ma view you at ya weight money
It ain't a game
It ain't easy to make money
So now everybody wanna take money
You ain't a thug, matter fact you a fake money
Fuck wit mines, I'ma view you at ya weight money
It ain't a game

(Verse 2 - Noreaga)
Yo where my down South niggas at, I'm playing piddy-pat
Wit this kitty cat, bitch swear she a city rat
It's Nore now, here look read the story now
My name Nore, and niggas know how I rip
And if I don't feel a nigga, I don't get on his shit
Y'all can love me, or hate me, or suck my dick
I like my hoes just like Summer, no class
And niggas working so hard, and getting no ass
Why y'all niggas acting like, it's all ill in y'all square
Motherfucker you ain't know that it's a hood everywhere
Me and 50 vandal, no we always run scandal
Weak niggas, have us lighting up candles
Sending out roses, condolences, notices
Focuses on, niggas like Fu Quan
Yo in they ground, niggas that don't get no bound
Y'all keep my word, don't love no bird
Get a beef from TM, and just twist my herb

(Chorus - 50 Cent)
So now everybody wanna take money
You ain't a thug, matter fact you a fake money
Fuck wit mines, I'ma view you at ya weight money
It ain't a game
It ain't easy to make money
So now everybody wanna take money
You ain't a thug, matter fact you a fake money
Fuck wit mines, I'ma view you at ya weight money
It ain't a game

(Verse 3 - 50 Cent)
Yo it's all about the cash you getting
Bricks you flipping, the whips you sitting
The bitches you hitting, when you living the thug life
Bitches I don't love no of 'em, the guns I'm running 'em
Punk niggas I'm sunning 'em, every chance I get
Man I know niggas is a trip, so I save all my grip
For these babies faggots flippin', dial 1-800-TIPS
Force me to bury the bricks, and the whips and take trips
Every word that come out of my mouth, I mean it, you could eat
'Cause when I stick you, you gon' cough it up like you bulimic
I'm no magician, but I could make, somethin' outta nothin'
Like turn an empty block, into a crack spot that's pumping
So all you niggas out there, thinking you the nicest
Me 50, I'm ya motherfucking mid-life crisis

(50 Cent talking)
Southside, alright baby, 50 Cent, Noreaga, Trackmasters, teflon

(Chorus - 50 Cent)
It ain't easy to make money
So now everybody wanna take money
You ain't a thug, matter fact you a fake money
Fuck wit mines, I'ma view you at ya weight money
It ain't a game
It ain't easy to make money
So now everybody wanna take money
You ain't a thug, matter fact you a fake money
Fuck wit mines, I'ma view you at ya weight money
It ain't a game

(50 Cent talking)
Know what I'm saying

Track -10: Material Girl 2000

If a bitch don't like me
Somethin' wrong with the bitch (fuck that bitch)
Why... oh why... why... you wanna fuck with me now?
Yo Dave, that shit come with the game baby, the money, you know
thats how the shit work, you know what I'm sayin'
they supposed to love me now baby
I'm doin' it now baby

Girl, what makes you wanna fuck with me now?
I've been wantin' to fuck wit' you for quite a while
Is the money makin' you wanna fuck with me?
The money gonna make you sell your soul

[Verse One]
Whoa... if money's gonna make me slam these hoes... then alright
Whattup Shorty, I ain't seen you in many moons
talk to me, how's life been treatin' you? good I hope
you got a smile that only a fool would forget
and a figure that'll leave a nigga droolin' and shit
There I was, kickin' my game, pickin' her brain
buggin' 'cause a while back I met this bitch on the train
she wasn't feelin' me, I pulled up, she wouldn't talk from the whip
Uptown girl, she feel like thats some chickenhead shit
but on the sidewalk we ain't play games
we exchanged numbers and names
I went back to the Range
I heard her Girlfriend whisperin' "I know that nigga, he rich"
she think I got six whips 'cause me and my Man switch
anyway, her name is CeCe
she said she go to BMCC
push a '98 328 with chrome BB's
she said she seen me in the Onyx video on TV
she liked my part the best, man, this bitch is tryin' to G me.


[Verse Two]
It's hard as Hell to find a Girl thats really down for ya
type that'll hold down the Tre pound for ya
they into diamonds now, to Hell with pearls
these trick niggas fucked up, they done gave 'em the World
Hey Shorty, why you like me? huh? you like the way I spit?
oh, I hit your girlfriend, she told you 'bout the dick?
nah for real, am I the type that you wanna roll wit'?
platinum iced out, got rid of that gold shit
I love my lifestyle, you too, you love it
that I could blow Twenty Thousand and think nothin' of it
know you wouldn't fuck with me if I had no ends
probably wouldn't fuck in the whip if it wasn't a Benz
I guess life looks different through them Shanel tints
Man, I don't care if these hoes love me or not
long as I rhyme hot I'm gettin' head in my drop
it goes on and on and on and it don't stop.


[Verse Three]
One thing you can always count on is change
and a rich nigga to come put shit in the game
had a 4.0 then Jigga made you trade your Range
would've felt broke if you couldn't get your change
now it's hard to find us or stay behind us
while we on the 900 double R Hondas
watch the cats who flip bricks recline in the latest whips
while Penetentiaries stay packed with cats who sling packs
all these hoes ain't Madonna fans but all across the World
you can find a material Girl
I sip Dom 'till I earl
take 'em two at a time
quick I get in they mind
have 'em thinkin' they mine
bust off then tell 'em "Bust a Uey, on mo' time"
I'm like the reason ya'll niggas can't eat this year
got your bitch breakin' her neck to peep this here
c'mon... uh huh... c'mon

[Chorus] - repeat 2X

Fuck you bitch! leave me alone, walk on... get the fuck on...
Yo, Shorty... tell your friends ya'll ain't fuckin' with us...
aww man... look... he ain't mean that shit...
c'mon thats just records... niggas is playin'...
we wasn't serious and shit...

Track -11: Thug Love

[50 Cent]
What y'all know about this fab shit, huh?
TE baby come on, uh-huh Trackmasters uh-huh

Look we can shop together mama, his and hers
Fifth Av. shit baby, Fendi furs
I ain't tight with the chips girl
I'm down to splurge
If it's ice you like I'll light up your life (Ooh)
VS2 Clarity alright
I play the block I ain't the type to punch your clock
I'm the type to put the metal to the floor in the drop
I live life in the fast lane
I make a grove of hash
Hustle hard for cash so I can spoil that ass
It's like she loves me, she loves me not
Cause her friends pump her head hull of bullshit alot
I gave jewels I imported for her
Chanel bags I bought from boosters
To the hood I introduced her
She feisty and sometimes she wanna fight me
People saying if I get knocked she ain't gon write me
The sick part is all that bullshit excites me

1 - [Destiny's Child]
A thug's what I want
A thug's what I need
Even though my friends don't seem to see
That he lace me with money
He knows when I want it
And I'm never gonna leave my baby
My thugged out no good baby

[50 Cent]
Ay yo I treat you like you need to be treated like you're special
Tie your hands to the bedpost when I caress you
When I met you it was Guess and Gap
Now it's Gucci and Prada
Took you from being a nine to being a dime
You complain that we don't spend time
When I'm OT on the grind going hard for mine
Yo when shorty say she hate me
You know she mean she love me
When she play me close at the bar
That mean she want some Bubbly
See my polying with another chick and shit get ugly
She wanna flip threaten to run keys across my whip
Try to burn a nigga with some Hominy Briss
That's how she on it
When I met her she was lowkey
Now she wanna OD
You know me I let her do her thing son
I say what I'm feeling
Niggas say that I'm illing
I sip Cristy so I'm pissy
Like a staircase in your building

Repeat 1 (2x)

Repeat 1 & 2 till end

2 – [Beyonce']
A thug is what I want
And a thug is what I need
And my friends don't understand
How my baby laces me
A thug is what I want
And a thug is what I need
And my friends don't understand
And I think its jealousy

Track -12: Slow Dough

Trackmasters, 99 shit
Huh uh, huh uh, yea

Slow dough, is better than no dough (fa sho)
Get caught talking to popo (what you say to him son?)
They hit you with the fofo (blaow, that's right)
My niggas is loco (loco)
Yo to diss me that's a no-no (no-no)
Y'all niggas is so-so (so-so)
That's why you ain't got no dough (broke ass niggas)

Put me through any test I bet ya I'll pass cause I'm a cheater
Broke niggas, smoke niggas, rich niggas smoke Cohiba's
My team been puffing chiba and packing heaters since the days of shell toe Adidas
And ain't shit come between us
Look I'm winning now and I'ma keep on winning
I see with you ain't nothing changed same ginen same linen
Fuck the don shit, nigga I'm an armed convict
I live wild beat cases before a trial
Grand jury style I'm foul
You wondering why I don't smile
I'm schemeing to stick you up now
Son I be the first to blast the gun, the last to run
While you hit the pavement son I mash you, ugh
If you don't know you better go and ask someone
50 Cent is my symbol and my name
Symbolizing the change that I'm bringing to this game
Things'll never be the same (never the same baby)


Yo nowadays niggas talk like they wanna get shot
Like I won't grab the glock and run up in your spot
Six double O drop I'll put two in your knot
And stick around and get every motherfucking thing you've got
Here I stand on the alley on godrule
Same spot where rob got shot
The block's high
Warrent squad flashing my mug shot
Everybody know I'm loco, kill the popo, blast the fo fo, rode dolo
Rock solo, I should be old T on the low yo
Pump the six and push the volvo
I hear they go kuku and go puff loco
I sell llelo and price up and down like yo yo
But keep that on the low do, nobody's supposed to know, yo
I make 16 hundred off of every ho do
Fucking with the cash flow that'll get you blast yo (haha)
I always get the last laugh yo


I rap a muthafucking house around my my wrist for wreck
While you niggas race neck to neck
While niggas who live from cheque to tech
I ain't even going to front I ain't working with a full deck
Life in the hood so hard I done lost some of my cards
Instead of praying before I sleep I put my hands on my heat
As soon as I start dreaming I'm right back on the street
Any nigga in this game flowing they think they can see me
Gotta be, fucked up in the head and smoking hemee
Believe me if you thought like me you could be me
But you ain't been through what I been through and this shit ain't that easy (one)


Track -13: Gun Runners

(Phone ringing)
Aww man...who the fuck is callin'?..
I don't even wanna answer this shit...Hello?

(Man on phone)
Whattup nigga it's Black
remember me from way back?
we used to go to school together
man, I got your number from Heather
she said you sell guns, I got beef I wanna see what you got
and if I like it I'll cop

Damm nigga, you hot
you talkin' like you tryin' to get a nigga knocked
what time is it? man, it's fuckin' 4 O'clock
I shouldn't sell you shit, but Son, meet me on the block
I ain't got time to waste man, where this nigga at?
I'm in the Brown hooptie, there he go, I see 'em
pullin' up slow in the BM
I popped my trunk to show him what I'm workin' wit',
first I showed him the Teck
I told him Niggas give these shits respect
but you don't want this, Man
these shits is known to jam
this is a little smaller here,
and a little more common, 9 Millimeter Ruger
16 shots, hollow points will go through ya
and this? this here? this is a 12 gauge Mossburg kid,
two shots and you can wet like half a block
this shit here gets my dick hard,
it's a Calicko, it holds a Hundred shots
if you can't kill your beef with this you need to stop
c'mon, pick somethin' now nigga, you know it's hot

(Other Man)
Man, stop actin' like that nigga, just show me what you got

aight, nigga look, I got Two 380's,
one black, one chrome, and 4 glocks
they all hold 21 shots
look, I done been through all my shit nigga,
so tell me what you want

(Other Man)
(Click clack)
It's hard to choose man, I think I'll take 'em all

Oh, you gon' do me like that?
I got one more piece to show you, my Deringer,
I keep it in the small of my back
it's a two shot, it's chrome, my initials engraved in it

(shots ring off)
look at you now, you had to get it
your BM? I'm takin' it, shit, you don't need it
park it where I can watch it at and see if it got low jack
then take it to the chop shop to my Man Kojak
he gon' give me more cream so I can cop mo' gats
Joe and Duke came through, them niggas copped two Tecks
said "Don't go by the gamblin' spot, that shit gon' get wet".

Track -14: You Ain't No Gangsta

[50 Cent]
Look If you ain't worth a mil, you ain't far from broke
Got anought heart to sell weed but you scared of dope
I wouldn't snitch on my peoples if the feds grabbed me
Yo ass would hit more notes than Ron Isley
I wouldn't rhyme about Rolleys if I had no watch
Wouldnt write about crack if I ain't had no spot
You talk six coupe shit you only pushing a trey
Got bitches shutting you down in the C.L.K
For cats like you, crime don't pay
You just linger in the hood, them niggaz blow you away
You the type to get paper when I'm locked up, get yo jewels rocked up
Then have to tuck em in when I pop up
Niggaz in the hood sayin "50's Grimy"
Cause they hit me wit Kosami and now they can't find me
If you see it how I see it, my watch is yo whip
And I can cop anotha one afta each assist

[Chorus] x 2
You ain't no gangsta
You'se a busta, a customer, a sucker
You fake fraudulent motherfucker
You ain't a gangsta
I should cut ya, cock back and bust ya or stomp you out cause
We don't trust ya

[50 Cent]
You owe a nigga? You don't wanna pay him?
Kill him, that's what they said ta ta disapper him
Y'all ain't got to believe me
When I'm done with this rhyme if theres time I'll hit a flick
Wit Mariella this connect bitch, Peruvian chick
She ain't hot but eevrytime I fuck the coke right drops
When it's time to get it on (what)
I pull over the thong (uh huh)
Fuck till I nut then get up, I'm gone (yeah)
Usualy hit it watchin tele way out in L.A.
I like it when she say "Papi I feel it in my Belly"
Call up all my niggaz in New York on the celly
First thing I'm sayin is "Nigga what da deally"
Pack a trey pound up under my Pelle Pelle
Y'all niggaz want war, clap clap, Oh really?
I watch niggaz slang packs in front of the deli
Got 20 inch chrome sittin on my perili
Lorenzo on the Benzo nigga you feel me?

[Chorus] x 2
You ain't no gangsta
You'se a busta, a customer, a sucker
You fake fraudulent motherfucker
You ain't a gangsta
I should cut ya, cock back and bust ya or stomp you out cause
We don't trust ya

[50 Cent]
Fix the cell, blast the room devil spray, turnin proof
Hoe whip, bulet proof, yopu ain't fuckin wit me, duke
Bricks from Filipe, 19 five, what we pay
Cop on a week mad hard to catch him on the weekday
Niggaz backed up, slugs to the gut, that'll bet him up
Gettin fed thru his arm in a hospital wil slim him up
Get it thru yo head, 50 Cent don't care
I cock triggers light the blockup, iller than times square
Real shit, you spit it cause you seen it
I spit it cause I did it and I mean it
Man, I don't like none of y'all
Fuck around I'll run in y'all pop one in y'all
Had the whole hood talkin bout what I done to y'all
Listen I don't give a fuck if you blood or cuz
I got love for thugs niggaz firing slugs
Stage rapping ass niggaz ain't sold no drugs
Gotta show me some love cause my sins are bluffed

[Chorus] x 2
You ain't no gangsta
You'se a busta, a customer, a sucker
You fake fraudulent motherfucker
You ain't a gangsta
I should cut ya, cock back and bust ya or stomp you out cause
We don't trust ya

Track -15: Power of the Dollar

Ya'll niggas wanna get high, well we gonna get high then
This shit right here is drugs, ya'll for sell baby
50 Cent uh, take it how you wanna take it nigga

[Verse 1]
Yo aiyyo, aiyyo, there is six different wings in the spot, choose one
Some get addicted, some do it for fun
Boy my hoes are clean, just like my guns
And I keep them in a safe place, just like my funds
I keep all my big bills, give my wifey the ones
Frontin' and I'll clap your ass and leave you for dead son
Niggas who know me, know how I get down, I'm fresh out the pound
NYPD crit the flip, get on some New York undercover shit
Fuck wit dogs you ain't familiar wit, and get bit
Niggas scripted through the hit, for some paper and shit
It's all about the cash, keep it in a stash
Some niggas talk shit wit they ass, I see through them like glass
Popo lookin' for me, for some shit I did in the past
If you don't like me at first, I'm gonna grow on you like a rash
This rap shit, I got it in smash, I'm built to last
Feel the wrath, I bust that ass, sit back and laugh (haha)

[Chorus: repeat 2X]
You don't have to respect a nigga, but respect his cash
Cause for the money, niggas will murder that ass
I came up fast, I watched a lot of gats blast
The power of the dollar (the cash, the cash)

[Verse 2]
Nigga don't you ever forget, I call the shots
I run the spots, extort your pops, flossin' drops
I'm "Livin Off Xperience" like Lox, I'm hot
Check what I got, shorty got knocked
Comin' up out the capsule spot
On the uptown block, he couldn't run from the cops
So my man got shot
In a jet black Brasada, across the street from his mom's crib on his block
I told him get them niggas that cash, they murdered that ass
Niggas told 'em slow down, he was movin' too fast
Heard the shot, went through his face after the glass, he crashed
Hit the three on his niggas grass, the cattle said it got low fast
The kid who had it done was a crude fella
Who woulda thought he wile out over that mozzarella
We ain't know them, but now we know better
Not to fuck with his cheddar, his man pack a beretta
He won't hesitate to squeeze that, over that green back
Believe that, now niggas know that he's back


[Verse 3]
I ain't got a worry in the world, if it's beef, don't sing it, bring it
Parents warn their kids, about people like me
I'm out of order, I turn your only daughter, into a transporter
Before I die, I'm gonna see more blow than Rich Porter (woo)
50 Cent, don't get it fucked up for greens, I for greens
Let it go back to Smith, I dissect it
I check and correct it, flow perfected
I make shit hectic, I wreck shit, nigga check it
If you ain't tryin' to feel the flames from the blast
Respect a nigga cash
My smile will rock niggas to sleep, pack heat
Fuck the police, handle beef on the street
On a scale of 1 to 10, I'm a 9 with 2 MM's
If your man want to get involved, I'll bring it to him
Niggas been wantin' me dead, I'm still here kid
They send their dogs to come get me
They wet shit, but they ain't hit me
Word in the hood is 50, shifty
Niggas they don't want to go against me
Cause they know I hunt your ass alive


Track -16: I'm a Hustler

Rule number one don't go against the grain
Rule number two give respect where respect due
Rule number three if you get knocked play games and say names
(gun click sound) the 45 will tear you out the frame
Its like the rich get richer and the poor don't get fuckin thing
Don't mean nothin changed but the things my money bring
My style will leave you aggy like them cats in jail
You peoples got pleany money actin like they ain't got bail
I feel for you niggas gettin shot while I'm sayin this rhyme
Or niggas in the mess hall gettin shot on shallow lines
An old timer schooled me don't burn bridges my friend
Imagine the G-Dub close and yo ass gotta swim
I watch the fifth melt a nigga melt a nigga of the sidewalk of New York
Me and shorty saw from afar and had a talk
He said I told em if he came around I'd clap him, I gave him my word
Look at his head its still shakin he had alot of nerve

(Jadakiss sample: If it wasn't for the flow
I'd probably have to double Back bubble crack)
(Jay-Z sample: yea yea I'm a hustler)

Yo when the fed come in the game loyalty is limited
Hardcore niggas start actin feminine
With the feds you do eighty five percent of your time
Duke you get ten you'll damn near do nine
Hate a liar more than I hate thief
A thief is only after my salary a liar is after my reality
The streets I know'em like my ABC's
Stay away from the D's and stack ya cheese
Try to see three hundred g's fore you see three hundred C's
Tree top to feel the breeze co connect for key's
Yo bitches sexin me take me to ecstacy
Once I nut (ahh oh shit) I don't want 'em next to me
If its on mother fucker believe I'm gonna ride
I'm the type to swallow my blood fore I swallow my pride
Letters on my shirt read DKNY
Got grimy niggas runnin with me from BKNY


They say I don't sound like a killer well how a killer sound
I bet I grab a foe pound and back that ass down
See many men live baby and many men die
Many men get drunk puff lah and stay high
Here's a jewel love you enemies and hate your friends
Your enemies remain the same friends always change
I don't quit that theres more that one way to skin a cat
You can get him in the face dog or down his back
All bullshit aside now its time to be honest
I fear no man for death is all thats promised
I got niggas standin in line waitin to hear me spit
From eighty six to ninety six the game went from sugar to shit
This for you niggas in the background dyin to shine
I hate you like fiends who ask for a dime for nine
Don't nothin change in the game but faces and names
Skate to wait to date and the jake


Track -17: How To Rob

[Madd Rapper]
The art of getting robbed
This is how we do Brooklyn style boy you know what I'm sayin?

[50 Cent]
R.I.P B.I.G, R.I.P P-A-C, R.I.P niggas that wanna OD
Aiyyo the bottom line is I'ma crook with a deal
If my record don't sell I'ma rob and steal
You better recognize nigga I'm straight from the street
These industry niggaz startin to look like somethin to eat
I'll snatch Kim and tell Puff, "You wanna see her again?"
Get your ass down to the nearest ATM
I have dreams of fuckin an R&B bitch
And I'll wake up early and bounce with all your shit
When I apply pressure,son it aint even funny
I'm about to stick Bobby for some of that Whitney money
Brian McKnight, I can get that nigga anytime
Have Keith sweatin starin down the barrel from my nine
Since these Harlem World niggaz seem to all be fam
I put the gun to Cardan tell him, "Tell your man
Mason Betha, haha, come up of that watch now
I mean right now"
The only excuse for being broke is bein in jail
An entertainer can't make bail if he broke as hell
I'd rob ODB but that'd be a waste of time
Probably have to clap him run and toss the nine
I'd follow Fox in the drop for four blocks
Plottin to juice her for that rock Kurupt copped
What Jigga just sold like 4 mil? He got somethin to live for
Don't want no nigga puttin four thru that Bentley Coupe door
I'll man handle Mariah like "Bitch get on the ground"
You ain't with Tommy no more who gonna protect you now?
I been skeamin on Tone and Poke since they found me
Steve know not to wear that platinum shit around me
I'm a klepto nah for real son I'm sick
I'm bout to stick Slick Rick for all that old school shit
Right now I'm bent and when I get like this I don't think
About to make Stevie J take off that tight ass mink
I'll rob Pun without a gun snatch his piece then run
This nigga weigh 400 pounds, how he gon catch me son?

[Madd Rapper](Chorus) 2x
This aint serious
Being broke can make you delirious
So we rob and steal so our ones can be bigger
50 Cent how it feel to rob and industry nigga?

[50 Cents]
Ill catch P and Silk The Shocker right after the Grammies
And Will Smith and Jada ass down in Miami
Run up on Timberland and Missy w/the pound
Like you gimme the cash and u put the hot dog down
I figured it out
Been robbin Joe before that's why his ass
don't wanna be a playa no more
Mad at you I'm robbin J.D., FUCK YOU!! PAY ME!!
Had Da Brat with em, shoulda had his gat with him
DMX wanna get down well you tell homey
I'm on that Treach shit, I do my +Dirt All By My Lonely+
I should rob Clue man his shit did well
I wanna stick TQ but his shit ain't sell
I hit the studios take shit and leave
Catch Rae Ghost and RZA for them funny ass rings
Tell Sticky gimme the cash before I empty three
Ill beat your ass like that white boy on MTV
Cannibus wanna battle while I'm stickin them up
Nigga get capped coroners pickin em up
Heavy tried to hide his shit, nigga try to stall ya
He said "Why you robbin me I got _Nuttin But Love_ for ya!"
Caught Juvenile for his Cash Money piece
Told him I want it all he said, "Even my gold teeth?"
I caught Blackstreet on a back street in a black jeep
One at a time get out and take off your shine
Did you ever think that you would be this rich?
Did you ever think that you would have these hits?
Did you ever think that I'd flash the nine?
And walk off with your shit like it's mine?
I'ma keep stickin niggas until I'm livid
I'll rob Boys II Men like I'm Michael Bivins
Catch Tyson for half that cash like Robyn Givens
I'm hungry for real im bout to stick Mister C
That nigga still eatin off Big's first LP
I had Busta and the whole Flipmode on the floor
He asked me if I had enuff I told him "Gimme Some More"
Is you feelin this? Then wait for the sequel
I gotta get Kirk Franklin for robbin Gods People

[Madd Rapper]
For real yo you know what I'm sayin?
Niggas got to get stuck up that's just how it goes down
It don't matter if you an industry nigga or a regular nigga
It don't matter, if you got it and I need it I want it
50 Cents ain't fuckin around
Track Masters ain't fuckin around
Crazy Cat ain't fuckin around
The Madd Rapper aint fuckin around
So watch your backs, watch your pocket book, watch your pockets
Watch everybody on the train, watch everybody on the bus
Cause we gonna get you whether you like it or not