[50 Cent]
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I don't wan' talk about it (50)
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Man I don't wanna talk about it (nah)
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Man I don't wan' talk about it (yeah)
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And I don't wanna talk about it (wooo-oooh!)
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[Chorus: 50 Cent]
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I make millions quick and I don't wan' talk about it
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Nah I don't wanna talk about it
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I shoot a nigga kid and I don't wan' talk about it
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Nah I don't wanna talk about it
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I fuck the baddest bitches, I don't wan' talk about it
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Nah I don't wanna talk about it
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I'm still flippin chickens, I don't wan' talk about it
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Nah I don't wanna talk about it
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[50 Cent]
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These niggaz police
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Go 'head, ask me what I'm ridin in so I can say the Enzo
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My bitch roll down the window so I could feel the wind blow
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Got big enough for me to fiddle on my kinfolk
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Bitches with me cruisin, Moulin Rouge and
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They fuckin and they strippin nigga, I ain't even trippin nigga
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Me I handle business; God's my only witness
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Watchin homicide, sayin "Who the fuck did this?"
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Me I run the street mayne, so I keep the heat mayne
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Sews what you reap, when you fuck with the elite mayne
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I don't fuck around boy; you better ask around boy
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I hit you with the pound, leave yo' ass on the ground
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For, you poppin that bullshit, like I don't pull shit
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Fully loaded clips and whips, get the grip, clip the bricks
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Nigga we hittin licks, stickin shit, gettin rich
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That's why my name ring bells all around this bitch
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Any hood you go through they know 50 Cent (wooo-oooh!)
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And I don't wanna talk about it (OHH!)
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[Chorus]
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[Tony Yayo]
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Yeah, it's the kid nigga, yeah
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Aiyyo, big money, my car got the big face (yeah!)
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Forty-five, my belt got the big eights
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Niggaz hate but I'm low seven star Caesar
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For grimy niggaz tryin to line me like {?} preacher
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You niggaz got the nerve, I'm at Johannesburg
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With Mandela nephew blowin heavy herb
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Then back to the projects, low from the task force
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The dope spot's sellin more shit than Scott Storch
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I'm tired of these pricks, lyin 'bout bricks
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Got my can and my white, my tan like Mariah and Nick
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Fly in the '60 U.F.O.
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Unidentified flyin object on twenty-fo's
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More money more hoes, more money more clothes
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Smoke that AK-48, not bullshit 'dro (yeah)
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I rock big arenas, not bullshit shows
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And my pants three thousand, these ain't bullshit clothes (OHH!)
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[Chorus]
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[Lloyd Banks]
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Nah, uhh
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B-A, N-K, S-5, 5-oh
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Or 6-8, M-G, tinted with my eyes low
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Homie I'm a Tahoe, fully loaded nine blow
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You see out on hydro, Luciano blind hoe
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Loiue V offended me, YOUR BITCH in my Bentley C
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And weekends are the chills, I'ma fuck her 'til she empty
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Empty on you if you front, 'til your passenger is stuck
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Give your ass a brand new scar, in need of a brand new car
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I ain't them I'm different baby, I talk, you listen baby
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Listen and I'll show you, how money controls you
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I'll put you in my old school, and let you pop the switch
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Pocketful in every packet, that's why I'm poppin shit
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I don't forgive I don't forget, what you said, where you flip
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When you get hit, I hope that's it, pop-pop, all on your whip
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I-I, be on that shit, I'm high, I'm on that piff
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Bye-bye, you fuckin bitch, you ain't hot, you ain't rich
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You a snitch!
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[Chorus]
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-----------------
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I Don't Wanna Talk About It
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| G-Unit |
