G-Unit
PT2. & Bump Heads
[Intro: 50 Cent]
Yo you know me I'm a straight up n***a
So I tell a bitch exactly what I wanna do, you know I'm sayin'
If I'm in the club and I'm tryna go home I'm like "Yo ma what's up, I'm tryna, know
Get wit'chu you know
I mean tonight though not next month you know none of that other shit you know I'm sayin'
But, you know every now and then I, I be ly, I ain't gon' front, I be lyin' to the hoes too, man
I be tellin' (Yea) exactly what she wanna hear

[Verse 1: 50 Cent]
I wanna be the reason you smile after you wipe ya tears
Reason you have the courage to confront ya fears
The reason there's two karats in each of ya ears
I splurge with the paper ma, I don't care
How you like it, pumps or boots, jeeps or coops
Minks or leathers, 50 fall off never
What's mine is yours and what's yours is mine
So when I shine, you shine, come on
The finest champagne, we can toast to life
Crap table in Vegas, you can toss the dice
Don't let ya friends get you confuse sayin' "50 bad news" (Uh-huh)
I need you in my life girl, you're too much to lose

[Interlude: 50 Cent]
Ha ha
That's that shit I said on that J.Lo shit
Yeah
Ay Puffy man stop makin' these motherfuckin'
"I miss J.Lo records", n***a
Yo Sha turn this shit off, man
I ain't feelin' this shit right now, put some hard shit on
[Beat switches]

[Intro: 50 Cent]
Yeah
Come on
Heh, hahahah
Yo

[Chorus: 50 Cent]
N***a, you won't deny that I'ma fuckin' ridah
Then you'll bump heads wit me
I'll put a hole in yo ass, you'll see
That it ain't cool to fuck wit me
N***a, you won't deny that I'ma straight ridah
Then you'll bump heads wit me
I'll put a hole in yo ass, you'll see
That it ain't cool to fuck wit me
Ha ha

[Verse 2: Tony Yayo]
G-Unit, I roll wit gorillas
Fuck a big body guard, I hang wit pint size killas
I ain't tryin' to be dirty, still on the strip
I'm tryin' to be dirty, filthy rich
Give a n***a too much rope, he think he a cowboy
Give Tony too much dope, I'm pushin' the big boy
V12, SL detailed
I rap and wait for them checks in the mail
If you hatin', your due time life will expire
Cause my guns speak jamaican, they be like "Bloodfire!"
Where I'm from, n***as be on some sleek shit
They hungry, use they lighters to cook their beef stick
And this 'dro and this nestle got me right
So my lungs be as black as Wesley Snipes
I'm on first class flights heading towards Vegas
Ya slot machines n***as, we crap table players
I roll a seven, cause we crap table players
[Chorus: 50 Cent]
N***a, you won't deny that I'ma fuckin' ridah
Then you'll bump heads wit me
I'll put a hole in yo ass, you'll see
That it ain't cool to fuck wit me
N***a, you won't deny that I'ma straight ridah
Then you'll bump heads wit me
I'll put a hole in yo ass, you'll see
That it ain't cool to fuck wit me
Ha ha

[Verse 3: Lloyd Banks]
I know a lot of n***as want Banks gone
My kind of beef will fuck up ya grill and not the kind you put franks on
I'm hidin' out, so my meals is home cooked
I deal wit more ho's than a chinese phone book
You're high with your messed up ratchets
I'm out blowin' haze bags the size of ketchup packets
Fuck who's in ya ride, there's tools on my side
By the females standin' with tattoos on they thighs
There's a lot of cats losin' they wives
Cause next time I see 'em, they got black and blues on they eyes
Nah, I ain't ready to die, but I'm prepared
But I'd rather grow old with grey hairs in my beard
They know me in the field, the kid with the fans
That argue over my balls like Kobe and Shaquille
If you talkin' bout millions throw me in the deal
Big city, stadium tour, Rollie in the wheel muhfucker