[Intro: 50 Cent]
You wan’ smoke that?
Go ‘head, roll it son
I don’t give a fuck man (Six Figga)
Smoke that shit man
Or you can smoke crack if you wanna smoke crack
I don’t give a fuck what you wanna do man
Don’t look to me to stop you man – yeah
I’m not gettin in the way
[Chorus: 50 Cent]
Cash Rules, I keep a shooter ’round me, Queens!
Get the money, I have a nigga killed y’all (killed y’all)
Kill the hood, ask niggaz ’bout me, Jesus!
For the money, niggaz’ll go real hard (real hard)
You are now under my hypnosis
Summertime grind, come out with the toasters
I return like a animal ferocious
New money breathe, new enemies, nigga you know this
Another mil’, another nigga sick
I got nothin but hard dick for your bitch to lick
I box you orthodox out boy, outlaw bricks of raw
I’m out in the grind, I make the dope price soar
Shit cool ’til the mac out, run when it back out
A nigga finna blackout, better pray that bitch jam
It’s in God’s hands, it’s all God plan
You mean even when a nigga gettin smoked, goddamn
I push my pen with passion, I’m the author of the struggle
When pain is a head crack, designer of the devil
Trip’ 6-6-6, I’m back on my bullshit
See clear through my third eye; it’s gon’ be a murda
E’ry summer, e’ry winter, e’ry spring
You think I’m bullshittin I put that on e’rything
The shootin gon’ stop right after the shit-talkin
I was sellin crack while Mike was moonwalkin
20 off a pack, I stack, I can’t call it
I blast ya like NASA, Jack, you outta orbit
I mean you outta order, you don’t want me to send a nigga to you
So he could put some hot shit through you, do you?
[Outro: 50 Cent]
Yeah, I’m back baby I’m back!
New shit, the drought over, new product
Yeah, man I can’t fit in with these niggaz man
I mean niggaz got mohawks, they wearin skinny jeans man
I think these niggaz is faggots man, for real man
They with the rainbow club man
You think this shit is a fad? C’mon man!
I think it’s more than that man
I think it’s more than that
So if a nigga wear a dress, you gon’ put on a dress too?