"Get In My Car"

[Intro]
Uhhhhh
Yeah
Uhhhhh
Yeah

[Verse 1]
I'm a straight guerrilla with it, cold hearted killa wit it
Any nigga gettin' outta line can get it
I make it hot, motherfuckers freeze up when I come through
Mac-10, thirty two shot clip in my snorkel
I might smile and say whats up but I don't fuck with you niggas
My rap money slow up, I'll run up on you niggas
I'm on the edge, I'm just waitin' on a nigga to push me
Put my hand on my strap, what you lookin' at pussy
We ain't buddies, we ain't partners and we damn sure ain't friends
So much chrome on my Benz, you see ya face in my rims
If your bitch wanna roll, I'ma let her get in
I don't play but I'm a player till the mothafuckin' end [gunshots]

[Chorus (x2):]
I got no pickup lines
I stay on the grind
I tell the hoes all the time
Bitch get in my car (Bitch get in)
I got my 64, ridin' on Dayton spokes
And when I open that do'
Bitch get in my car

[Verse 2]
Don't tell me you don't know that, uh I'm the shyiiit
Now you better watch ya girl mayn, I'll leave with you bitch
I ain't shitting these hoes, man I'm bout my paper
If your bitch really bout it nigga I'm gon' take her
Backseat of my jeep, fuck till I fuck up her make up
Take her to the Diamond District, introduce her to Jacob
Tell her if she like me she should keep me icey
My game fuck with a bitch brain till she think she wifey
Spent a life savings in a day, cause she likes me
Commitment from me, uh nah not likely
When I with Vivica, I thought I was onto somethin'
But then the next week, nah man it was nothin' [gunshots]

[Chorus x2]

[Verse 3]
Look into the windows of my soul, the eyes never lie
They blood shot red, its gaunja in my system, I'm high
First its pain when you lust for love, then its smooth and calm
Feel the rush, like a needles in your arm
Its a cold world baby girl, lovin' me is not enough
Find out when you fuckin' broke, love won't get you on the bus
Man you should see the pretty bitches that be sexin' me
They suck cock that make 'em hot, I just let 'em stand next to me
Hundred percent thug, freak too, I'll taste your love
69's the position, your mouths full baby huhhhh?
My conversations so deep, I get in your head
Next thing you know, you yawnin', turnin' over and I'm in the bed [gunshots]

[Chorus x2]

[Outro]
Hahaha
Quit playin' bitch get it
You know you wanna ride with a nigga
50 Cent
G-G-G-G-G-Unit
[Gunshots]

"Position Of Power"

[Intro:]
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

[50 Cent:]
Aww nigga don't trip
I'll kill you if you fuck with my grip
I won't hesitate to let off a clip
Aww nigga don't trip
You're gonna make me get on some shit
Run up on you quick
What's up? You're whipped
Aww nigga don't trip
You're gonna get you monkey ass hit
Run in you whip tryna fuck with my clique
Aww nigga don't trip
Case you didn't know who this is
It's 50 Cent bitch, G-Unit
Aww nigga don't trip

[Verse 1 - 50 Cent:]
I come through your hood, stuntin' in my yellow lam
Murcielago, top down, nigga damn
I'm the biggest crook from New York since son of Sam
Cruisin', bumpin' Bugz 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
Its palm trees and pretty bitches out in Cali kid
I touched the Hollywood paper, go and shoot me some flicks
Have some supermodel bitches come and suck on some dick
My mom turn in her grave if I married a white chick
But baby'll suck the chrome off the Chevy and shit
Niggas be wearin' fake signs, I'm rockin' a little charm
Thirty carrots on the pinky, kiss the ring on the Don
Crack open that Cali bud, stuff the weed in the bong

[Chorus - 50 Cent:]
Nigga you hustle, but me I hustle harder
I got what you need, them trees, that hard, that powder
My niggas we gee packs, every hour on the hour
They shoot when I say shoot, so I'm in the 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 stage, they don't fuck with me son
You got an appetite for hollow-tips, I'll feed you my gun
This is that Ferrari F-50 shit, it's real laid back
Type shit you recline to in the Maybach
I got two suiters now, on the run from the fuzz
You get the same shit for ten bodies, you get for one 'cause
I live life in the fast lane, 100 miles an hour, chrome and some wood grain
You know a nigga still really tryna move cane
Make a little extra money on the side mayn
I ain't playin', I'm up early with the birds word
Puttin' that work in, parrelli's on the Porsche chirpin' (I'm making moves)
I got a hundred mill from music, a hundred grand from crack
Goin' to see my jeweler, so I can blow a stack

[Chorus - 50 Cent:]
Nigga you hustle, but me I hustle harder
I got what you need, them trees, that hard, that powder
My niggas we gee packs, every hour on the hour
They shoot when I say shoot, so I'm in the position of power
You fuck around if you wanna