[Intro: 50 Cent's son Marquise]
Yo daddy, these n***a's ain't hood, drop that shit

[Verse 1: 50 Cent]
So what I grew up with them n***as, i ain't stuck with them n***as
We from the same hood but I don't fuck with them n***as
Shit pop off, I touch one of them n***as
Cut one of them n***as, buck one of them n***as
Beg For Mercy, number four, I'm so hood
First LP, ten-million sold, I'm so good
I thought n***as would love to see me shine
But it's making them sick to see me getting mine
Got that Benz, got that Bentley, and that new Bugatti
Got that Range, Aston Martin, and that new Ferrari
If it's making you sick to see me blow I'm sorry
Dude we used to be cool, but I ain't stuck with you n***a
I grew up with you n***a, but I don't fuck with you n***a
Got shot in the back then turned around and got shot in the eye
You ain't gonna shoot back lay down and die
There's a message in my music, can you hear it Kai?
Your man's never gonna blow and you're the reason why
It's disease infested when I spit it any n***a can get it
Fuck the fronting and the rhymes that ass'll get flat-lined
Can't we all just get along? we used to be friends
Nah, fuck that, man we used to pretend
These n***as is comedians, I thought I was type funny
Five called telling n***as, "mutt need bail money"
On some real shit, would you bail a n***a out son, that knew n***as was trying to kill you and wouldn't let you hold a gun
Think about it
Hahaha
[Verse 2: Lloyd Banks]
Regardless of what you done heard or hearing
Fuck all the comparing I dare them to come anywhere near him
They want someone famous to pout with so I walk around with my gun like it came with the outfit
I don't really like to toot my own horn but beep, click clack, blat, go to sleep
We all know since you was in the class with Legos, you'd grow up to be as soft as mash potatoes
Your man gonna make me throw this n***a towards the window and put his ass in the air like the Jordan symbol
All my diamonds are colored, I Fruity Pebble'd the right hand, fifty-five grand on the bezel from Ice Man
They want to give your boy the 40 cal and nina so I stay on my toes like a ballerina
I'm starving n***a, the only one that can cut me and get away with it is my barber, n***a
Cause I'll revolve a n***a, take a piece of your head
You'll have more room in your hat than a Harlem n***a
And now most of these subliminal raps be coming from the same n***as backstage giving you daps
Like, "yo banks you hot and everybody says it and I think it'd be real big if we could do a record"
But now I'm on some other shit
Like I ain't fucking with none of you n***as on a record unless you my brother shit
I'm an intelligent man and my elegant band got more colors than elephant man
Since hell is at-hand I mine as well expand hand over my can
Tan all over the lamb, lamb all over the sand
The sun all over the beach, your eyes all over my bitch
Her eyes all on your moves incase one of them switch
If you don't learn to relax and swallow steam, there'll be more shells in the grass than halloween