[Intro]
Money make a pimp, pimp hoes
Hustlers sell dope, thugs gun smoke, what?
Money make the world go round as the world turns
Money make the world go round as the world turns
[Verse 1]
n***a I need money to maintain, hustlin' ain't a game
n***a go against the grain gon' get tore out the frame
TVs in the Range, I'm into nice thangs
I slang weed, c**aine and h**ne
50 Cent, that's my name, n***a I bring the pain
You thought sh** stay the same, n***a sh** gon' change
Put a bullet in your brain, n***a at close range
Run away with ya rollie, your rings and your motherf**in chain
Ain't nothing funny mang, I'm about my money mang
b**h get down on that track and get my money, I ain't playin
Better understan what I'm sayin what I'm sayin, I ain't playin
I'll be in front of your crib, layin, with the Mac to start sprayin
Any n***a that's in the game, for the fame, gotta be a lame
Crackers'll put ya in chains, box'll drive you insane
Sun can't shine all the time, man it's gotta rain
That ho loose as hell, you betta crack the whip, mang
[Hook]
A pimp ain't a pimp with no mothaf**in' hoes
A hustler ain't a hustler with no mothaf**in' dough
A thug ain't a thug if his gun don't smoke
A playa ain't a playa if his a** dead broke
[Verse 2]
I live life in the fast lane
Man I ain't got nuttin to lose, everything to gain
Either you with me or against me man ain't nuttin change
n***a, you.. go against the grain, I'll make you.. walk with a 'caine
Now n***a now who you gon' blame when sh** ain't the same
n***a nobody hears your name, you got down wit a gang
O thirty-one blood, y'all n***as do your thang
You got two felonies, f** it, go out with a bang
Y'all n***as wanna hang with n***as that filthy rich
They ain't even got to talk to take your b**h
One look was all it took, she seen the Benz-o
She seen them TVs and them big old rims, holmes
Ayo the b**h useta bring you dough used to be your bottom ho
Now your paper comin' slow, she feel like she had to go
Roll with them rich n***as and ball with them ballers
Politic with the willies the real shot callers
[Verse 3: Bun B]
I got one life to live, follow that light that keeps on guidin me
Haters tryin me, hoes is a-bidein me, media ride me
King of the Underground so the streets is steady hiding me
Representin sure tasters, the yay' keep takin pride in me
Streets Deciple slide-in me, status reports the badest
You caught walk in the black top wit fat rocks and had his newport
I can't stay away like Too $hort, I gots to break a ba*tards back
Tore em up, get lem ready to port, put 'em on the master track
I blast the facts the life in the grill, gorilla pimpin
If I have to mack ya wife then I will, it's me and 50 Cent
My n***a, live in trife, and thats real, talkin sh** on us
Thats like pullin out a knife and dont k**, that's on the Trill
I'm on for million wit your pit, in the clit that sh** true
I split through, your defences, so relentless, get you
Without you even knowing got you strippin and even hoeing
You don't wanna let the pro in the door, this what we showin
[Hook]
[50 Cent]
Is your b**h your b**h or is your b**h mines?
Is your b**h your b**h all the time?
You done got your paper, now it's time I get mines
Except the serve and everything'll be fine, b**h
[Outro]
Runnin from pimpin, b**h you need to run to some pimpin
Wit them cheap a** payless shoes you got on ho
You still ain't figured out what a ho supposed to look like
Look at you motherf**a here, huh b**h?
How you gunna catch some dates lookin like that ho?
b**h get off the sidewalk and into the street
b**h the sidewalk is for pimpin b**h!