50 Cent


Lyrics


No Mercy, No Fear
8/1/2002

1. MTV Intro
2. Green Lantern
3. Elementary
4. Fat Bitch
5. Banks Victory
6. Back Seat/Tony Yayo
7. After My Chedda
8. Soldier
9. E.M.S.
10. G-Unit Skit
11. Say What You Want
12. Clue Shit!
13. Funk Flex
14. Whoo Kid
15. Scarlet Skit
16. PT2 & Bump Heads
17. G-Unit/U.T.P.
18. Wanksta
19. Star & Buc Outro

 

1. MTV Intro


2. Green Lantern

[gunshots]
50 Cent... Shady... Aftermath... the dream team
We gotta get the get well cards... niggaz is sick
Feel this... (non stop) ... [gunshots]
Motion picture shit hahahaha

[50 Cent]
Now don't think I won't hit you cause I'm popular
I got a P-90 Reuger to pop at cha
Catch ya slippin' i'ma give you what I got for ya
My clip loaded wit' 16 shots for ya
Never had a hot gun on your waist and blarin' to shoot
Cause a nigga went and said the wrong shit to you?
Homie you ain't been through what I been through
You not like me and i'm not like you
I'm like a animal wit' it when I spit it it's crazy
Got semi-autos to put holes in niggaz tryina play me
One shot is not enough you need least a uzi to move me
After four bottles of Dom the kid start feelin' woozy
I write my life you write what you seen in gangsta movies
I'm gangsta to the core nigga you can't move me
I found my space at the top I got this rap shit locked
I never heard of you you heard of me I murder you
Spit shells through your convertible
Lowest you notice?
Rich or poor hollows still go through your door, this is raw
You scared of me you not prepared for me the kid is back
50 Cent... I know you like that
Yeah I know you like that

Green Lantern... Shady Records...
Anger Management Tour... homie...

Yeah [gunshots]


3. Elementary

[50 Cent]
G Unit!
[50 Cent]
A, B
[Scarlett]
You can't fuck with me
[50 Cent]
C, D
[Scarlett]
We from the Harlem streets
[50 Cent]
E, F
[Scarlett]
Don't talk me to death
[50 Cent]
G, H
[Scarlett]
It's elementary

[Scarlett]
Picture me rolling Range Rover
Same color your Air Force Ones
White on white, ya like?
Red I flight the night
From L.A. to N.Y.
I'm Harlem bound
You see how bitches tips up, when Scarlett 'round
Niggas get the heart to holla while we up in the club
But get intimidated when they see me sitting on dubs
I hear 'em whispering "Ain't a man, shit that's heard."
She roll with them G Unit niggas, that's what's up
Disrespect me, I'll have niggas blast ya up
Take my advice, don't let ya peoples gas ya up
I got a fetish for the chips
20's for the six
Hollows for the clips
Try me, if you think I'm playing bitch
And the police we'll have another crime scene taker
Jim Star crush your head, give your ass a shape-up
Uptown niggas known for the money they make
Everybody ain't shook, you see doing the shake

[50 Cent][Chorus]
The boss spending ends
Saying, "Gimme that Benz, 20 inch rims, and four TV's"
The snitch in the precinct saying, "He sell X, he sell techs, and he sell D"
The balla by the bar saying, "Everybody drink, the best champgane, it's all on me"
Snitch in the back of the police car, pointing out the window saying, "He robbed me"
It's elementary

[Lloyd Banks]
1,2,3,4
[50 Cent]
Lloyd Banks' in the house
[Lloyd Banks]
Now get the fuck on the floor
I slid through the front door
With the 9 and the velour
A cal in my pocket
You wil', I'mma pop it
I'm down for a profit
I'm ghetto as hell
You can't you tell?
My road dog, under the jail
Getting frustrating mail
So I'm drinking and smoking
Thinking and hoping
This cell gon' open
You can dance next to me, but don't throw an elbow
I'll throw one back and leave blood on your Shell Toes
Hell no
I ain't paying for pleasure
Your pussy don't bring rainbows and pots of treasure
It's every girl's dream, to floss with the team
Long on the suine
DVD's on the screen
Blowing on cream
Waiting for you to scheme
You ain't gotta know how to read, to spray a magazine

[Chorus]

[Tony Yayo]
I don't wanna grow up, I'mma hustler kid
Go'head and stunt, see I don't pop two your wig
I'm artistic, intelligent, so much ability
When I use them big words, your bitch be feeling me
So ya'll niggas hate me, 'cause your wives be our groupies
Ya'll irritate me, like loud people in the movies
Fall back, matter fact back down
'Cause I just passed security without no pat down
You can catch me in the bathroom blowing a sticky
Or catch me on the dancefloor feeling some tits
Sex sells, so I'mma P-I-M-P
So my pockets never be empty
It ain't no problem, we scoop them models
We got condoms, coups, and lavish condos
50 got me getting ass like I never did
So when I step in the club, hoes love the kid

[Chorus]

[50 Cent]
The cat in the house go
Meow, meow, meow, meow, meow, meow, meow, meow, meow
The bird in the cage go
Tweet, tweet, tweet, tweet, tweet, tweet
It's elementary


4. Fat Bitch

Yea, we over here, with some fat chicks, haha

[50 Cent]
Yo, I don’t be fucking with them fat bitches
That’s Yayo, all the fat bitches

[Chorus]
Don’t be stuck on the things they say, now you know it’s a nasty world
I ain’t fucking with you anyway, ‘cause I know you’re a nasty girl
I ain’t ever gonna discriminate, so let me compliment your eyes

[50 Cent]
Fat, fat, them Snickers got your ass getting fat, fat
Those cookies got your ass getting fat, fat
That Cake got your ass getting fat, fat
Bitch you grown, that ain’t baby fat, fat

[50 Cent]
In the gym I see your ass up on the Stairmaster
But you got it on level two bitch go a little faster
Look girl, I ain’t gonna lie, I'll tell you how I feel
They should handcuff your big ass to the treadmill
You wanna work out now, ’cause you know it’s getting hot
And your big ass fitting to pop all up out a halter top
Find a right chick wearing some tight shit and it’s on
See your ass wear some tight shit we like, “She wrong”

[Chorus]
Don’t be stuck on the things they say, now you know it’s a nasty world
I ain’t fucking with you anyway, ‘cause I know you’re a nasty girl
I ain’t ever gonna discriminate, so let me compliment your eyes

[50 Cent]
That Burger King done got your ass fat, fat
McDonald’s done got your ass fat, fat
That Domino’s done got your ass fat, fat
Fat, Fat

[Lloyd Banks]
I like ‘em slim in the waste
Curves in the right place
A bitch with hips, lips, and a tight face
Your appetite will put a dent up in a nigga’s salary
You need to stop burning that weed and burn them calories
Your attitude is like you always had gear
You got a ponytail, you ain’t always have hair
I just love to see your capris coming down, mami leave
On the town, stay away if you 300 pounds

[Chorus]
Don’t be stuck on the things they say, now you know it’s a nasty world
I ain’t fucking with you anyway, ‘cause I know you’re a nasty girl
I ain’t ever gonna discriminate, so let me compliment your eyes

[50 Cent]
Fat, fat, them cinnasticks got your ass fat, fat
Them Little Debbie’s done got your ass fat, fat
These cupcakes done got your ass fat, fat
Fat, fat

[Tony Yayo]
I ain‘t gonna trip, I hang at the bar with my wallet
I‘m freaking off in your car or your closet
And ain’t nothing wrong with a big, strong girl
If you could cook your ass off, I’ll give you the world
You could be skinny or fat, white or black
Nigga pussy is pussy, so yea, I’ll hit that
I’m a freak, so I love ménage a trois
And I really care less if you twice my size

[Chorus]
Don’t be stuck on the things they say, now you know it’s a nasty world
I ain’t fucking with you anyway, ‘cause I know you’re a nasty girl
I ain’t ever gonna discriminate, so let me compliment your eyes

[50 Cent]
Them Snickers got your ass getting
Those cookies got your ass getting fat, fat
That Cake got your ass getting fat, fat
Bitch you grown, that ain’t baby fat, fat

[50 Cent]
Stay the fuck away from me, fucken fat bitch
Fuck with Tony Yayo ho
Uh, oh, stop, don‘t you touch me
I mean this shit ho


5. Banks Victory

[50 Cent]
Yo, yo we can't stay alive forever
So if shit hit the fan then we might as well die together
I'm high as ever, more holes and more cheddar
G-Unit move around wit them pounds and berreta's
Yea faggot, if I want it I'm gon' have it
Regardless if it's handed to me or I gotta grab it
Don't make a ass outta yaself tryin to stop me
I'm cocky, raps rocky, nigga you sloppy
You know that I'm, 8 levels above you nigga
I'll club you nigga, I never heard of you nigga, ugly nigga
I'm the wrong one to provoke
You rattin on niggas is only gon' leave you smoke
So the only thing left now is tools for these cowrads
I got no friends, fuck most of these cowards
They pop shit 'till we start approaching these cowards
While we lay around dollars, they lay around flowers

[Lloyd Banks]
I got a intergangstress who argue and steams wit reefer
And who flip when I call a bitch like she Queen Latifah
Not all the vehicle's is long enough to stash the streetsweeper
This shit can get uglier than the Master P sneaker
We slidin through the ruckus, wit prada on the chuckus
Soon as spring break ho's home from college wanna fuck us
I ain't here to drop knowledge on you suckas
I'll sick rottweiler's on you fuckas, cops followin to cuff us
Top dollars to discuss this, whole lotta zeros
When it comes to paper I blow a soul outta aero
I'ma break before I lay floor berry
Besides, every rapper ain't a star, nigga plad ain't bulbary
You can't tame Lloyd, smokin by the big screen
You changin the channel looks like I'm playin the game boy
I know to watch botherin ya vision
You reach and I'll put a dot on ya head like its part of yo religion
Why party wit a pigeon?
I'm blowin a 10 cuz Bush handin flyers for a party in a prison
I'm in the gucci vest wit the green and red straps
I'm the last rapper to scare niggas since Craig Mack
Now every morning's a fast start
And there aint problem gettin dressed cuz my closet got more aisles than pathmark
Run, move startin a wave
and leave wit 12 shells in ya mouth like a carton of eggs
I'm the young pimp pardon my age
I don't got long hair but if I did she be puttin my braids
Niggas find what club they at
take 'em wit us, and run a train on 'em like a subway mac
get advances from grey agra
see these record labels got most artists gettin fucked like the gay rappa'
i go the college on the tour
I'm goin down in history nigga, next to Wallace and Shakur
I keep ya ammo clean, text polished in the drawer
Camera's by the hamper that mine into the floor
by now, you probably heard of me
fresh outta surgery, flashy as a fuck, you gon' have to murder me
Burglary, I'm leavin wit cha nike's bergendy, White T, bergendy
you match now, back down
niggas love to hate you, but love you when you disappear
catch me on the boat wit weed smoke and official gear
heavy when I toke, C notes from different years
Besly in the robe, re-motes for liftin chairs
You ain't rich, but we glad to snatch ya
I send cars to crib like I'm a cab dispatcha
you better off wit ya stupid guys, lookin for a coupe to drive
you ain't gettin nuttin but ya french fries supersized
it's a damn shame y'all still local
I'm in a million dollar studio layin my vocals
Nigga

[50 Cent]
Still in the projects nigga, you ain't goin nowhere
you gon' fuckin be there for the rest of yo muthafuckin life
and yo momma said, I'm supposed to tell you somethin.....
to encourage you, somethin positive
aight well I ain't gon' lie to you muthafucka, he ain't goin nowhere
get yaself a beer, get on the fuckin curve
fuckin dirtbag


6. Back Seat/Tony Yayo


[50 Cent]
Now play my Tony Yayo shit

Yeah, 50 Cent
G-Unit
Remix
Tony Yayo
We gonna do it again

[Hook: repeat 2X]
Back seat of the Caddy truck or Tahoe
Back seat of the Benz truck or Expo
Back seat of X5 or Range Rov'
So when I pick you up, you know how this shit go - hoe

[Tony Yayo]
Hey yo, my truck talk for me
If I was bummy and ugly
Your bitch'll still have love for me
As long as I push a truck, rims chunky
Never open my lips, your bitch wanna fuck me
Beep the air horn, hop in turn the heat on
Pick you up off the streets get your feet warm
She giving sex cause the Lex truck takes unleaded
Big thick thighs, eyes browner than Sahara deserts
Deuce-Deuce, bitches, yeah they caught your eye
And them loud system full of bass and highs
You see that X5 BM
Packed with Puerto Ricans
Bad mommies on the low, just creepin
Niggas be frontin like they bubbling coke
But they really struggling with a high car note, ha ... (YEAH)

[50 Cent]
Might see me in the Jeep
Rollin' 'round 4 deep
And you know we on the creep
Nigga, I'm holdin' it

[Hook]

[Tony Yayo]
Back seat of my truck lets swing an episode
Fuck a hotel we have sex on the road
I pull the seats back
Put the sheets in the luggage rack
Pull out my balls
And play an Aaron Hall track
I tell a chick "Bend over, mami"
Hit 'em with the Henny Dick
Now my windows foggy
Its time to party, I got TV's, CD's and DVD's
Now bitch, get on your knees
You could be a model chick or a silly hood rat
Don't cum on my leather, don't stain my floor mats
Where's your baby mama?
She in the truck and I'm blessin her
Undressing her
Make hop out for air re-freshener
I ain't stressing her
'Cause my rims keep checkin her
She's 21, my rim size older than her
TWENTY TWO'S

[50 Cent]
Niggas say they want beef
But when they see me in the street
They don't slow down to speak
'Cause they know I'm holdin ..

[Hook]


7. After My Chedda

Aye what's up
Yo this is 50 Cent and I'm here with my man DJ On Point
And you know why his name is On Point cuz he on point pussy
Go 'head play that shit I'll lay ya fucking punk ass out nigga

[Chorus:]
When you frown at me (Yeah!)
Is it cuz I won't provide for you girl? (Cuz I won't provide)
You're after my cheddar (haha)
And your friends they see it too (c'mon)
Spending notes is what your up to (Is this what you want??)
Women are after my cheddar
(Is this what you want?!)

[Verse 1: 50 Cent]
I gave you a style, Gucci this Fendi that (Yeah)
Burberry bag, shoes and the hat to match (Aha)
I like the way it look but bitch I ain't buying that
I hate to be the bearer of bad news
But no more Prada shoes (Uh!)
When I just wanna chill you wanna go out (WOO!)
See me poly with some other chick you wanna show out
They say I'm wrong when I dog your ass like I should
Now you can reminisce on the times I treated you good

[Chorus]

[Verse 2: Lloyd Banks]
You could think about me grinding my fans (Yeah!)
You even got more than one watch on it's too much time on your hands (Aha)
They say behind every good man is a woman (WOO!)
So if Tash pull up stash the cannon in your linnen (C'mon)
I'll never be a chouffer to the mall
So learn to appreciate the CD's and posters on the wall
Fatal attraction is mad real
The last bitch I deaded went crazy and swallowed thirty Advils

[Chorus]

[Verse 3: Lloyd Banks]
They say money makes the world go 'round
And material things make a hoe go down (Fuh sho'!)
I see you in your Prada, Gucci, and BCBG (Aha)
Bitch I'm getting rich but I don't trick on GP (Yeah)
It's $5 dresses and $10 skirts
Bitch play the strip and put in work (WOO!)
Birds wanna have my baby since I saw my contract
So I gotta double up in case the condom snap

[Chorus]

Look, don't ask me for shit, man
I ain't got nothing for you, man
Yo, what? Bitch what the fuck you mean I can't sing, bitch?
Bitch, I'm Luther Vandross in the shower

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