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50 Cent( Curtis James Jackson III )
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Banks Workout, Part 2
Nobody get hurt if nobody don't move Just give it up smooth, G-Unit Motherfucker, you move I'll flash my tool and blast my tool, G-Unit Nigga, you don't know me, and I don't know you You think you know my crew, G-Unit
I been a problem since the old days, pimps and gold caps Now I'm in O.J. Simpson throwbacks Y'all was wonderin' where my ass been Probably vacationin' on South Beach, gettin' head like an aspirin
If you gassed, I can let the tec pound your ego Or lock you in a closet with the West Nile mosquito The press crowd in people, especially celebrities I'm heavily shittin' on any Tom, Dick or Gregory
Nigga, you better be strappin' they want you dead if you rappin' I'm tryin' to cave your head and your back in I'm gettin' bread and relaxin', and attractin' a fan base Of females with e-mails and letters to fax in
In Vegas, with a toaster and a blunt And the hotel I'm checked in, got a rollercoaster in the front I'ma post 'em when I stunt, the Sammy Sosa of the month Better yet the whole season, nigga I'm still breathin'
Even though my dollars are green I rap for the kids, that's too poor to waste eggs on Halloween I'm gettin' swallowed clean, my habits are good Collectin' all the karats I could
Slidin' from a stash spot to conceal the torture And a good silencer to make it sound like the Wheel of Fortune All this careless talkin', 'cause I'm travelin' and flossin' Havin' a good time, and you havin' a abortion
You sucker for love, gettin' married and get divorced then Can't even afford the batteries for your Walkman I'm out the hood, burnin' Cali weed on Slausson Where set trippin', turn to tragedies and coffins
Look, I mean what I'm sayin', you schemin', I'm sprayin' Your team end up layin' on the sofa, screamin' and prayin' Find more lyrics at ※ Mojim.com Sayin', G-Unit niggaz be rollin' crazy, holdin' 80's Older ladies starin' 'cause they starin' in that gold Mercedes
Since 50 hooked up with Shady, now they tryin' to book up and pay me If you think I'm shook up, you crazy, baby The boy strapped two ninas Smokin' out a bag, big enough to fit on vacuum cleaners
I wore a glove when I blazed you, fatty, I ain't your baby, daddy She flippin', now he tryin' to grab me out the navy, Caddy I ain't your ave-y, papa was a rolling stone Stockin' up to own a home, pocket full of loaded chrome
Drop and get a hold of dome, I know your motive homes You mad, 'cause I'm fuckin' half your Motorola phone I'm swift with the women, I'm good with my words A lot of niggaz is hatin' on what I deserve, I'm hotter
Front if you want, end up on the curb in your Prada And your man's runnin', ambulance comin' Another day, another dollar, on the low from the Impala I can have a six still in my shower, motherfucker
Nobody get hurt if nobody don't move Just give it up smooth, G-Unit Motherfucker, you move I'll flash my tool and blast my tool, G-Unit Nigga, you don't know me, and I don't know you You think you know my crew, G-Unit I sent a nigga that I thought you knew To come through and put a hole in you, G-Unit
Lloyd Banks, ha, ha, 50 Cent I ain't even gotta work hard Look at these niggaz, ha, ha, ha The fuck you gon' do now, nigga?
You done, had the same niggaz in the background for a long time Think they gangster, but goin' back and forth to jail Well, jumpin' the turnstile don't count, nigga Ha, ha, ha, ha
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