50 Cent - You Know lyrics
50 Cent [Curtis James Jackson III]
[50 Cent - You Know lyrics]
Cee-lo, we know
I'm sitting on leather, I'm a winner
If I crap out the strap out
Cause I snap right back to the beginning
Nigga
You know I will let it pop
Front if you want bitch I will make it hot
You know, you think you ill, but you not
You will need a tombstone
You will need a plot
I peep what niggas hate
Through my peripherals
Boy, if I leave this club back to the
Car I got some shit for you
Wanna party? We can paint the town red
Them bottles ain't shit to me
A nigga got bread
I'm big money, big business, I love it
Put the bad bitches with big
Asses and the budget i'm the boss
So you know shit is going how it gotta go
I don't want talk tonight
I might just buy the hoes
My pleasure principle spend no expense
First I'm happy then she happy that
She can pay the rent
It's nothing to a nigga when he up
But when they down I bet you he
Won't give a bitch a buck
Flip and catch an attitude like ''Bitch
What the fuck?" you want from a nigga, huh?
You fucking up a nigga, huh?'
Look, girl
You know you're sitting on a gold mine
Fuck with them other niggas think you so fine
My flow hotter than the gun
After that clip done
Don't care about the set you claim
Motherfuck the gang you bang
I hang around with hustlers and hoodlums
That party get the popping then
We beefing and we shooting
Let's party like it's 1999
Flat top Gazelle, the swag going back in time
I got it locked, they can't ignore it
Man, nigga, know some bullshit I'm all for it
Heroin Don seven sixty leaning chrome clean
Spend a nigga scheming trying to hit a lick
Them victim niggas thinking ''Damn, why me?''
I'm thinking why these niggas never try me
Maybe they feel the vibe
They know a nigga live
I let it off, inside and outside
The club rocking, it's on tonight
Them bottles popping, we getting right
I'm sitting on leather, I'm a winner
If I crap out the strap out
Cause I snap right back to the beginning
Nigga
You know I will let it pop
Front if you want bitch I will make it hot
You know, you think you ill, but you not
You will need a tombstone
You will need a plot
I peep what niggas hate
Through my peripherals
Boy, if I leave this club back to the
Car I got some shit for you
Wanna party? We can paint the town red
Them bottles ain't shit to me
A nigga got bread
I'm big money, big business, I love it
Put the bad bitches with big
Asses and the budget i'm the boss
So you know shit is going how it gotta go
I don't want talk tonight
I might just buy the hoes
My pleasure principle spend no expense
First I'm happy then she happy that
She can pay the rent
It's nothing to a nigga when he up
But when they down I bet you he
Won't give a bitch a buck
Flip and catch an attitude like ''Bitch
What the fuck?" you want from a nigga, huh?
You fucking up a nigga, huh?'
Look, girl
You know you're sitting on a gold mine
Fuck with them other niggas think you so fine
My flow hotter than the gun
After that clip done
Don't care about the set you claim
Motherfuck the gang you bang
I hang around with hustlers and hoodlums
That party get the popping then
We beefing and we shooting
Let's party like it's 1999
Flat top Gazelle, the swag going back in time
I got it locked, they can't ignore it
Man, nigga, know some bullshit I'm all for it
Heroin Don seven sixty leaning chrome clean
Spend a nigga scheming trying to hit a lick
Them victim niggas thinking ''Damn, why me?''
I'm thinking why these niggas never try me
Maybe they feel the vibe
They know a nigga live
I let it off, inside and outside
The club rocking, it's on tonight
Them bottles popping, we getting right