Pt2 & Bump Heads Lyrics - G-unit

[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 

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[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 

Photos 

[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