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Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
50 Cent
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Curtis James Jackson
Songwriter
Tony Cottrell
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Hi-Tek
Producer
Dr. Dre
Mixing Engineer
Mauricio "Veto" Iragorri
Mixing Engineer
Steve Daniel Baughman
Recording Engineer
Jared Lopez
Recording Engineer
Brian Gardner
Mastering Engineer
Rouble Kapoor
Assistant Mixing Engineer
Lyrics
Uh-huh
Yeah
Uh-huh
Yeah
I'm a straight guerilla with it, cold hearted killa with it
Any **** gettin' outta line can get it
I make it hot, motherfuckers freeze up when I come through
Mac-10, thirty-two shot clip in my snorkel
I might smile and say "What's up" But I don't fuck with you ****
My rap money slow up, I'll run up on you ****
I'm on the edge, I'm just waitin' on a **** to push me
Put my hand on my strap, what you lookin' at pussy
We ain't buddies, we ain't partners and we damn sure ain't friends
So much chrome on my Benz, you see your face in my rims
If your bitch wanna roll, I'ma let her get in
I don't play but I'm a playa 'til the motherfuckin' end
I got no pickup lines, I stay on the grind
I tell the hoes all the time
Bitch, get in my car (Bitch, get in)
I got my ''64, ridin' on Dayton spokes
And when I open the door, bitch, get in my car
I got no pickup lines, I stay on the grind
I tell the hoes all the time
Bitch, get in my car (Bitch, get in)
I got my '64, ridin' on Dayton spokes
And when I open the door, bitch, get in my car
Don't tell me you don't know that, uhh, I'm the shit
Now you better watch ya girl mane, I leave with ya bitch
I ain't stuntin' these hoes, man I'm bout my paper
If your bitch really 'bout it, **** I'm gon' take her
Backseat of my jeep, fuck 'til I fuck up her make up
Take her to the diamond district, introduce her to Jacob
Tell her if she like me, she should keep me icey
My game fuck with a bitch brain 'til she think she wifey
Spent her life savings in a day, 'cause she likes me
Committment for me, uhh, nah not likely
Went out Vivica, I thought I was onto somethin'
But then the next week, nah, man it was nothin' (Ha-ha-ha)
I got no pickup lines, I stay on the grind
I tell the hoes all the time
Bitch, get in my car (Bitch, get in)
I got my '64, ridin' on Dayton spokes
And when I open the door, bitch, get in my car (Ha-ha)
I got no pickup lines, I stay on the grind
I tell the hoes all the time
Bitch, get in my car (Bitch, get in)
I got my '64, ridin' on Dayton spokes
And when I open that door, bitch, get in my car (Ha-ha)
Look into the windows of my soul, the eyes never lie
They blood shot red, it's ganja in my system, I'm high
First it's pain when you lust for my love, then it's smooth and calm
Feel the rush, like a needles in your arm
It's a cold world baby girl, lovin' me is not enough
Find out when you fuckin' broke, love won't get you on the bus
Man you should see the pretty bitches that be sexin' me
They suck cock that make 'em hot, I just let 'em stand next to me
Hundred percent thug, freak too, I'll taste your love
69's the position, your mouth's full baby, huh?
My conversation's so deep, I get in your head
Next thing you know, you yawnin', turnin' over and I'm in your bed
I got no pickup lines, I stay on the grind
I tell the hoes all the time
Bitch, get in my car (Bitch, get in)
I got my '64, ridin' on Dayton spokes
And when I open the door, bitch, get in my car
I got no pickup lines, I stay on the grind
I tell the hoes all the time
Bitch, get in my car (Bitch, get in)
I got my '64, ridin' on Dayton spokes (Ha-ha-ha)
And when I open the door, bitch, get in my car
Ha-ha-ha
Quit playin' bitch get it
You know you wanna ride with a ****
50 Cent
G-G-G-G-G-Unit ha-ha-ha
Written by: Curtis James Jackson, Tony Cottrell