(feat. 50 Cent)



{"Whoa" by Black Rob beat}



Whoa! 50 Cent...

G-Unit! Yeah!



You want beef with me

Take a number and get in line

You want pairs with me

I pop ya top off with the nine

You mad at me

Shit, cause you can't shine

You ain't gettin yours

That's fucked up cause I'm gettin mine



I got an M1 in my hand and fin' ta start killin shit

I'm not the nation's new Malcom X but I'm militant

But I'm suppose to be scared, cause you got a big chest

My four-fifth'll lift you and your motherfucking bench press

While you screamin' war sceneless I'm tryin ta splash

Swing my knife too I'll break off in yo' ass

Niggas get hugged up in a huddle, I know how to clear em out

Four-fifth four shots, that'll fuckin air em out

In the hood niggas love me cause I keept it real

G-Unit niggaz they gon' always make bail

Whether it's two G's or twenty G's

Whether they knocked with two pieces and two ki's

Bitch please, get on your knees

You can lick these, balls

I'm not the nigga that you striptease, for

You got a problem I ain't the nigga, to call

Cause I'm more like a pimp than a trick BITCH!



You want beef with me

Take a number and get in line

You want pairs with me

I pop ya top off with the nine

You mad at me

Shit, cause you can't shine

You ain't gettin yours

That's fucked up cause I'm gettin mine



You want beef with me

Take a number and get in line

You want pairs with me

I pop ya top off with the nine

You mad at me

Shit, cause you can't shine

You ain't gettin yours

That's fucked up cause I'm gettin mine