50 CENT - Position of power lyrics

rate me

[Intro]

Ha ha ha! I told niggaz not to shoot dice with me

Look at this stack, I got money, I got money!!

Ha ha ha..

[Intro: 50 Cent]

Ahh nigga don't trip, I'll kill you if you fuck with my grip

I won't hesitate to let off a clip

Ahh nigga don't trip, you gon' make me get on some shit

Run up on you quick, wet up your whip

Ahh nigga don't trip, you gon' get your monkey-ass hit

Runnin your lip, tryin to fuck with my clique

Ahh nigga don't trip, in case you didn't know who this is

It's 50 Cent bitch, G-Unit

Ahh nigga don't trip

[50 Cent]

I come through your hood, stuntin in my yellow Lamb'

Murciélago, top down, nigga damn

I'm the biggest crook from New York since Son of Sam

Cruisin, bumpin Buck's shit, Ruger in my hand

Thinkin the East ain't enough, it's time to expand

I plan to head out West and plant my feet down

A nigga big as King-Kong in the street now

I do a little house shoppin, and buy me a crib

It's palm trees and pretty bitches out in Cali kid

I touch the Hollywood paper, go and shoot me some flicks

Have some supermodel bitches come and suck on some dick

Mama'll turn in her grave if I married a white chick

But baby'll suck the chrome off a Chevy an' shit

Niggaz be wearin fake shines, I'm rockin a lil' charm

30 carats on the pinky, kiss the ring on the Don

Crack open that Cali bud, stuff the weed in the palm

[Chorus: 50 Cent]

And if you hustle, for me I'll hustle harder

I got what you need, them trees that hard that powder

My niggaz move G-packs, every hour on the hour

They shoot when I say shoot, so I'm in a position of power

You fuck around if you wanna

[50 Cent]

Where I'm from you learn to blend in or get touched

I don't need niggaz for support, I don't walk with a crutch

Niggaz know my steez, they don't fuck with me son

You got a appetite for hollow-tips, I feed you my gun

This is Ferrari F-50 shit, it's real laid back

Type shit you recline to in the Maybachs

I got two shooters now on the run from the fuzz

You get the same shit for 10 bodies you get from one cuz

I live life in the fast lane; hundred miles an hour

Chrome and some woodgrain

You know a nigga still really tryin to move 'caine

Make a little extra money on the side mayne, I ain't playin

I'm up early with the bird's word, puttin that work in

Pirellis on the porch chirpin, I'm makin moves

I got a hundred mill' from music, a hundred grand from crack

I'm goin to see my jeweler so I can blow a stack

[Chorus]