Red Spyda - As the World Turns lyrics

[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!