We got a problem Houston, not Marques Houston or his little rapping side kick, we got a real mutha fu***n' problem. And it's only gonna be one of these songs, after that ima knock your mutha fu***n' a** out.
B***h n****s get put in the coffin with all that psychopath talking, you listening to the source and I ain't from boston, I'm gang banging, wear G-6's call em' how I see em', these n****s is b*****s, and clue put this n***a on a song and now it's g-unit, and I came to get it on, you ain't hot, n***a you look warm, I'll hog tie your a** with g-unit shoes on, you had pump it up that was a koo song, you only sold 10 records n***a now move on, talking about you got ratchets and tools on when you was at the all-star game with no jewels on, I can't believe I gave you dap, with the 45 on me I should of gave you that, pistol whipped you laid you flat, jump off buddens nah, disgrace to a yankee hat, and it's time to state my biz, only n***a pushing rocket jersey is jason kidd, you a phony n***a I'll erase your wig, have you running to the church like Mason did.
You don't know me fool, to diss me on dj clue, I don't need no assistance to dig you a ditch, and any problem I got I just put my clip in, you fake like janet's titty, one call 300 bloods in atlantic city, you bad boy then dance like diddy, I give celebrity beat downs, I bring the camera with me, on that mixtape s**t you knew my man was 50, and I keep something chrome in them tanish dickeys, smoke n****s like a gram of sticky, and I know my way to harlem I'll take you to bransons with me, come to Compton you'll vanish quickly, I got n****s in the hood that'll kill you for a can of Mickey's, gangs of L. A. We never die, and we'll let hollow tips fly at Joe
I drive through the desert storm kick up dust, red and blue rags hanging out of pick up trucks, get banks on the phone, n***a hit young buck, tell em' we got a problem with this dumb f**k, you was just in the city of angels in the W lobby in the presence of gangsters, I'm the n***a that'll beat you with the stainless and leave you alive so you can run and tell stain b***h, I got n****s in jersey that'll hang you, I'm a los angeles king with new york rangers, and you lucky yayo got that beeper on his ankle, joe budden is a true definition of a wankster
This n***a try to act like he ain't know what the f**k he was doing, you knew what you was doing n***a, stop lying to the fu***n' people n***a, gone jump on a freestyle n***a on that fly s**t, try to diss g-unit n***a, and I'm on the fu***n' first verse, you aint slick n***a, I caught that s**t like a mutha fu***n' greg maddox fast ball n***a, 50 get dre on the phone, see if that n***a remember what joe buddens second single was, 'cause I don't. I took a survey in the hood n***a, went to the projects asked b*****s if they feeling your s**t, they was like no, haha, I went to the hood asked n****s if they was feeling your s**t, they was like no, than I went to jersey, caught me a fuckin flight man took my last 500 dollars man, flew to jersey, asked n****s in jersey if they like your s**t, they was like no, so I said f**k it, ima take this n***a mutha fuckin head off. Blackwall street, aftermath, g-g-g-g-unit. You know what it is n***a and you know where to find me