Position of Power

[Intro: 50 Cent] Ha ha ha! I told niggas not to shoot dice with me Look at this stack, I got money, I got money! Ha ha ha.. Aw nigga don't trip, I'll kill you if you fuck with my grip I won't hesitate to let off a clip Aw nigga don't trip, you gon' make me get on some shit Run up on you quick, wet up your whip Aw nigga don't trip, you gon' get your monkey-ass hit Runnin your lip, tryin to fuck with my clique Aw nigga don't trip, in case you didn't know who this is It's 50 Cent bitch, G-Unit Aw nigga don't trip [Verse 1: 50 Cent] I come through your hood, stunting in my yellow Lam' Murcielago, top down, nigga damn I'm the biggest crook from New York since Son of Sam Cruising, bumping Buck's shit, Ruger in my hand Thinking 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 shopping, 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'd turn in her grave if I married a white chick But Becky'll suck the chrome off a Chevy and shit Niggas be wearing fake shines, I'm rocking 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 [Hook: 50 Cent] And if you hustle, for me I'll hustle harder I got what you need, them trees that hard that powder My niggas 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 [Verse 2: 50 Cent] Where I'm from you learn to blend in or get touched I don't need niggas for support, I don't walk with a crutch Niggas 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 ten bodies you get from one cuz I live life in the fast lane; hundred miles an hour Chrome and some wood grain You know a nigga still really tryin to move 'caine Make a little extra money on the side mayne, I ain't playing I'm up early with the birds, word, putting that work in Pirellis on the Porsche chirping, I'm making moves I got a hundred mil from music, a hundred grand from crack Gonna see my jeweler so I can blow a stack [Hook]