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[Chorus:] Bartender bring the bottles of Rosééé, (yeah!) That bitch like me but IIII don't give a - FUCK! Rich nigga smelling like good weeeed, Crush the hashish, look IIII don't a - FUCK! I'm so grimeyyy. (uh-huh!) - They can't line meee. (hahaaa!) The paper I geeet it, the paper I geeeet it! (whoooooooooo-whhhhhooooooooooooooooo!) [Verse 1:] Yeah! - What the fuck nigga? I - rock - like I got That style, that'll keep me forever on top. Bitch my - drop - top, make niggas Feel like there's somethin' wrong with their hustle. (their hustle!) I'm eating. - I suggest you niggas try this! (yeeah!) Scrap the plate, move the weight I got the itus. (uh!) I'm sick. - I'm addicted to the dough (hahaaa!) You take a hit of how this feel, you want mo'? (what?) It's sorta like what crack did to Pookie - in "New Jack", What's up when I cross over? - There ain't no coming back! (c'mon!) Take a hit of this. - This is what I've been cooking Perfect product. - Customer good looking. (whooo!) This trip, this flip. - I'm a get the count right. Do my numbers, man, why your baker count light? (uh-huh!) That work you put out, that was stepped on My shit raw dope. - Pur heroin! Songtexte [Chorus (Interlude in the backgroung):] Bartender bring the bottles of Rosééé, (I need y'all to raise your classes!) A bitch who like me but IIII don't give a (Let's toast...) - FUCK! Rich niggas smelling like good weeeed, (to more success...) Crash the hashish, look IIII don't a (more love and more life!) - FUCK! I'm so grimeyyy. (It's 50!) - They can't line meee. (In case your forgot...) The paper I geeet it, the paper I geeeet it! (I'm nice! Yeah.) [Verse 2:] Here it is nigga; 1000 grams of uncut (yeeah!) Take it off, consignment fuck up and you're fucked! (uhh!) This is certified hood shit, ghetto gold good shit, (c'mon!) Sniff a line of this! - Take a pull of that! (c'mon!) This is fact, either which way you hiding that (hahaaa!) I've been here before, it's so familiar. (yeah!) Bag up, fill up the para-familiar, (fuck with me!) I wanna win so bad nigga I kill ya! Get in the way, this 6 spray, I'm bad news. Denzel when the trumpet blow, more better blues. It's psychotic; my flows are narcotic, (uh!) Tell me how you want it my nigga, I got it (yeah!) For days - that money give goose bumps My pockets swollen. - Two lumps! Count it all, 10 c, no cent a dime You know me; you know I got a hell of a grind. (grind!) [Chorus:] Bartender bring the bottles of Rosééé, (There's nothing to it!) A bitch who like me but IIII don't give a - FUCK! Rich niggas smelling like good weeeed, (I can smell a hater!) Crash the hashish, look IIII don't a - FUCK! I'm so grimeyyy. (You know what this is...) - They can't line meee. (GG-GG!) The paper I geeet it, the paper I geeeet it! (GG-GG!) [Outro:] Yeeah. G-UNIT! This is therapy for me, man. I just gotta focus on my art... I'm a' artist! You can appreciate it... Like you appreciate... a Picasso. Or Andrew Warhol. You should love me! When you look at me... You should say: "This is precious." "This is a' abstrait." "This is marvelous." "This is a work of art." "This is 50! " Till next time. GG-GG- G-Unit! Aus Songtexte Mania