[Chorus: 50 Cent] If, you don't know, who I be You betta ask somebooooody about me Oh - you wanna 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 betta ask somebooooody about me And they'll tell ya I'm a soldier boy And I done told ya, over and over boy
[Verse One: Lloyd Banks] I come from a big city, the streets corrupt Now I'm rollin with snub-noses to heat you up Out here niggaz'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 seperate 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 losin his legs, but I can take the weight Some niggaz hate but I'll be damned if they hold me down Front niggaz 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]
[Verse Two: Young Buck] Uhh, they never seen 26's on a Hummer My goal is to try to fuck Trina by the summer Some niggaz 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 usin Dr. Dre's beats Fuck you, pay me, take your magazine flicks This ain't no Nelly hurr, 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]
[Verse Three: 50 Cent] Bentley is all dreams, G-5 is understood I made 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 betta ask who I be Or end up in ICU gettin fed through a IV Down in the Lou', they say they feelin me derrty In New Orleans they say I'm that nigga, ya heard me? From them Southside blocks to Watts, Westside don't front You know about them Grapestreet 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 wanna tak wif me I'm a real rudebwoy, ya nah wanna ruf wif me
[Chorus]
Compositores: Pierre Alain Dahan (Dahan Barranco), Curtis James Jackson (50 Cent), Christopher Charles Lloyde (Lloyd Banks), David Darnell Brown (Young Buck) ECAD: Obra #1639594