Pt2 Bump Heads

[50 Cent]
  I wanna be the reason you smile after you wipe ya tears
  The reason you have the courage to confront ya fears
  The reason there''s two karats in each of ya ears
  I splurge with the paper ma, I don''t care
  How you like it, pumps or boots, jeeps or coops
  Minks or leathers, fifty fall off never
  Whats mine is yours and whats yours is mine
  So when I shine, you shine
  The finest champagne, we can toast to life
  Crap table in Vegas, you can toss the dice
  Don''t let ya fears let you confuse sayin'' "fifty''s bad news"
  I need you in my life girl, your too much to lose
 
  [Beat switches]
 
  [Hook]
  Nigga, you won''t deny that I''ma fuckin'' ride out
  Then you''ll bump heads wit me
  I''ll put a hole in yo ass, you''ll see
  That it ain''t cool to fuck wit me
 
  [Tony Yayo]
  G Unit, I roll wit gorillas
  Fuck a big body guard, I hang wit pint size killas
  I ain''t tryin'' to be dirty, still on the strip
  I''m tryin'' to be dirty, filthy rich
  Give a nigga too much rope, he think he a cowboy
  Give Tony too much dope, I''m pushin'' the big boy
  V12, SL detailed
  I rap and wait for them checks in the mail
  If you hatin'', your due time life will expire
  Cause my guns speak jamaican, they be like "Bloodfire!"
  Where I''m from, niggas be on some sleak shit
  They hungry, use they lighters to cook their beef stick
  And this ''dro and this nestle got me right
  So my lungs be as black as Wesley Snipes
  I''m on first class flights heading towards Vegas
  Ya slot machines niggas, we crap table players
  I roll a seven, cause we crap table players
 
  [Hook]
  Nigga, you won''t deny that I''ma fuckin'' ride out
  Then you''ll bump heads wit me
  I''ll put a hole in yo ass, you''ll see
  That it ain''t cool to fuck wit me
 
  [Lloyd Banks]
  I know a lot of niggas want Banks gone
  My kind of beef will fuck up ya grill and not the kind you put  franks on
  I''m hidin'' out, so my meals is home cooked
  I deal wit more ho''s than a chinese phone book
  Your high with your messed up ratchets
  I''m out blowin'' haze bags the size of ketchup packets
  Fuck who''s in ya ride, there''s tools on my side
  By the females standin'' with tattoos on they thighs
  There''s a lot of cats losin'' they wives
  Cause next time I see ''em, they got black and blues on they eyes
  Nah, I ain''t ready to die, but I''m prepared
  But I''d rather grow old with grey hairs in my beard
  They know me in the field, the kid with the fans
  That argue over my balls like Kobe and Shaquille
  If you talkin'' bout millions throw me in the deal
  Big city, stadium tour, ruining the bill motherfucker

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