50 Cent, Bun B - As the World Turns lyrics

50 Cent [Curtis James Jackson III]

[50 Cent, Bun B - As the World Turns lyrics]

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

Nigga I need money to maintain
Hustlin' ain't a game
Nigga go against the grain gon'
Get tore out the frame
TVs in the Range, I'm into nice thangs
I slang weed, cocaine and heroin
50 Cent, that's my name
Nigga I bring the pain
You thought shit stay the same
Nigga shit gon' change
Put a bullet in your brain
Nigga at close range
Run away with ya rollie
Your rings and your motherfuckin chain


Ain't nothing funny mang
I'm about my money mang
Bitch 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 nigga 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

A pimp ain't a pimp with no mothafuckin' hoes
A hustler ain't a hustler
With no mothafuckin' dough
A thug ain't a thug if his gun don't smoke
A playa ain't a playa if his ass dead broke

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
Nigga, you go against the grain
I'll make you walk with a cane
Now nigga now who you gon' blame
When shit ain't the same
Nigga nobody hears your name
You got down wit a gang
031 Blood, y'all niggas do your thang
You got two felonies, fuck it
Go out with a bang
Y'all niggas wanna hang with
Niggas that filthy rich
They ain't even got to talk
To take your bitch
One look was all it took, she seen the Benz-o
She seen them TVs and them big old rims
Holmes
Ayo the bitch used to 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 niggas and
Ball with them ballers
Politic with the willies the
Real shot callers

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 Short Texas
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 bastards 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 nigga, live in trife, and thats real
Talkin shit on us
Thats like pullin out a knife and don't kill
That's on the Trill
I'm on for million wit your pit
In the clit that shit 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


Is your bitch your bitch or
Is your bitch mines?
Is your bitch your bitch all the time?
You done got your paper
Now it's time I get mines
Except the serve and everything'll be fine
Bitch

Runnin from pimpin
Bitch you need to run to some pimpin
Wit them cheap ass payless shoes
You got on ho
You still ain't figured out what a
Ho supposed to look like
Look at you motherfucka here, huh bitch?
How you gunna catch some dates
Lookin like that ho?
Bitch get off the sidewalk
And into the street
Bitch the sidewalk is for pimpin bitch!

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