(feat. Spider Loc & Lloyd Banks)
 [bad word] 2X: 50 Cent] [bad word] things, change, dem stay the same
Now watch [bad word] up, I hustle, I hustle even harder
I put that work in to win, no problem

[Spider Loc]
All money ain't good money, this I know
But I still love hood money, I gets my dough
And as a youngster, a [bad word] went to so much church
And still turned out [bad word] up, I did so much dirt
Chose to bang the neighborhood, I put in so much work
Did a whole lot of time, caused mom so much hurt
On everythang, that boy wasn't gunned on purpose
Who knew that all my darkness was really gon' surface
I was stuck on that [bad word]  [bad word] the streets
Without some type of beef the week [bad word] It's like a [bad word] feel better after dumpin his heat
On feet, just to see that body slumped in the seat
Was like a whole [bad word] to me, bustin was sweet
Now I'm smarter, I'm all about somethin to eat
I'm on the road, spend 30 days a month in a suite
But I'm still gon' hustle and cheat - let's go
 [bad word] 

[Lloyd Banks]
Yeah, uhh, now walkin down the block without'cha weapon
is a first class ticket to a lesson
I thirst cash, kick it to perfection, me and Bang got a connection
That's why I bring the Benz to impress him
{?} my zone, all alone homes rattle in my bones
Cause he yappin off his lips and if I hit him I'll be wrong
Cause he ain't never gon' be [bad word]  and I done worked so hard
But I will make you a corn on the cob, you'll be performin for God
Either that or rob you on your boulevard
Bet you never thought for a second niggaz'd pull your card God
I'm on my job, scarred since my [bad word] gone
HP tatted on me so his memory lives on
Engagin in drama without your bomber'll
be funeral arrangements for your momma
I learned that when I was in pajamas watchin Michael and Madonna
Now I got the appetite of a pirahna, [bad word]  [bad word] 

[Spider Loc]
What nobody knows, all the roads you go through
You can't even talk to those that supposedly know you
Some of the levels that these people'll go to for [bad word] [bad word]  tell me, is this what that dough do?
That's when you find yourself talkin to Pro Tools
There's not too many that ever walked in the Loc shoes
Or tell the tale that my heart contains
I explain, so many different parts of pain
I'm clean, but still some marks remain
From the past, when that kush weed sparks the brain
The cash made some people start to change
I feel hate when I pulled up and parked the Range
Your [bad word] right I got rich, but my heart the same
And practice makes perfect with the art of aim
You ain't really got the heart to bang
You ain't start to hang, 'til you found out I caught the chain
 [bad word]