[50 Cent]
Yeah.. Ja, you ready? Drop that
Ferrari F 50 style baby (yeah, yeah)
I´ma show ´em how I do it (yeah, yeah)
G-g-g-g-g G-UNIT!

I keep hearin´ niggas is happy, the D´s come, niggas wit guns
When I´m out on bail, ridin´ wit´ some new ones
Big got hit in that passenger seat
Pac got hit in that passenger seat
Now I´m ridin´ ´round in that passenger seat
Come near the whip, I´m blastin´ my heat
It don´t take long, for my juvenile delinquent thinkin´ to sink in
The consequences mean nothin´, those semi auto´s is bustin´
Crack sellin´, predicate villain, spit big words but I can´t spell ´em
Put a shot to your melon, that´ll keep you´re punk ass from chillin´
Then I got that nine and a fo´-fo´, that H2 is never full
Bullet proof windows and doors, gangsta how ´bout yours
Southside tatted on my back
My last gun shipment got the whole hood strapped
Now all I got is two 380´s and a nine
Nigga you can knock and tell the cops but you´re dyin´

[Chorus] x2 :
You´re thicker than water
Ouch! twizzy wizzy wa
You´re thicker than water
Ouch! twizzy wizzy wa
You´re thicker than water
Ouch! twizzy wizzy wa
You can be a Blood or a Crip
Nigga, you bitch
Follow Me

[Tony Yayo]
I used to chill in the hood, to support the fiends
But now I´m eatin´ caviar instead of pork and beans
I´m in the money green 7-45, with 7 shots in the fo´ five
Y´all niggas wanna die?
I got a love affair, wit´ violence and guns
So this is for them gangstas, rep´ where you from
When I got O´d up, my heart turned colder
That´s why the mac react like a king cobra
Now I´m jumpin´ out of Rovers, in Gucci loafers
Y´all niggas wanna stun? I´ll bury you cockroaches
Gimme one year, in this industry
I´ll buy enough guns to declare war on a small country

[Chorus]

[Lloyd Banks]
Still walk around wit´ the hammer boss
Rope and a cross
Hard times´ll make a lil´ nigga hate Santa Claus
Your mountains is high, holdin´ in Diana Ross
I´m like a 2003 banana Porsche
I don´t gotta hide sluts, to get your ties cut
They on my dick, ´cause I make groupies set off a fire truck
My team in the cutt, packin´ middle things
I got more foreign shooters than the Sacramento Kings
It´s 8 class karats in the border
I poke holes in plastic, to avoid a vaginal disorder
I´m a savage on your daughter
She ain´t in the college dorm
Then I guess I´m squirtin´ on the cabin that you bought her
I´m a heavy weed smoker, so the average is a quarter
Brown colored from shit, he established in the water
You got Banks on your jersey, you part of my fan base
Just ´cause you pour syrup on shit, don´t make it pancakes

[Chorus]