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World War III

de 50 Cent

[Intro]
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

[Verse 1]
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 in the nice thangs
I slang weed, cocaine and heroine
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 whole loose is ill, you better crack the whip mang

[Hook]
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

[Verse 2]
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 'caine
Now nigga now who you gon' blame when shit ain't the same
Nigga nobody hears your name, you got down wit a gang
O thirty-one 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 useta 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

[Verse 3: Bun B]
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 sure tasters, 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
Hats like pullin out a knife and dont 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

[Hook]

[50 Cent]
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

[Outro]
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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