| Lloyd Banks in the house, bad news
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| Tony Yayo in the house, bad news
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| 50 cent in the house
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| Bad news whenever 50 around it’s bad news
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| Tray pound’s in the house, bad news
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| 40 Kal’s in the house, bad news
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| I got a knife in the house
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| Bad news whenever 50 around it’s bad news
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| A made the lil man mad cause I’m flossin' bad
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| I ain’t a wrestler, but I’ll put your bitch the Boston crab
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| I talk money cause it costs to brag
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| Around here bitches walk around wit the hair outta a horses head
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| Rap it get your face stuck on them bricks
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| I don’t really like to exercise but I’ll push up on a bitch
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| Y’all sweet like ninety-nine bananas
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| That’s why I got ninety-nine niggas wit ninety-nine hammers
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| They all want a nigga to stop
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| Cause I rap slick enough to slip the ring off of Vivica Fox
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| I’m just a playa that found out where the coaches know
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| That’s why I’ma be around longer than the hope foe sho
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| You and your man y’all both should know
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| That all it takes is a finger to send you where the ghosts go
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| Shit I been hated since the fifth grade
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| That’s why my best friend the tray pound, a ice pick, and a switch blade
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| I don’t like you, you don’t like me
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| It’s not likely that we’ll ever be friends
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| Why pretend?
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| (Ma, Banks' back at it again)
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| I don’t like you, you don’t like me
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| It’s not likely that we’ll ever be friends
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| Why pretend?
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| (Ma, Tony’s back at it again)
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| Rule number one pick a target and study him for weeks
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| See where they rest at and lay with their peeps
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| Now you got the drop, know their daily routine
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| So the second rule please leave the crime scene clean
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| Third rule pick a day, fourth rule pick a time
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| Fifth rule pick a fifth, sixth rule pick a nine
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| And the seventh rule make sure your sidearm sweet
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| So when the shootout you leave him six feet deep
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| Eighth meet in a fast car with disguise
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| Use a ski mask with shades on your eyes
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| Ninth rule don’t say shit cause po-po listen
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| Fuck around you end up being stuck in the system
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| And the tenth rule don’t put a tag on a broken heart
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| Just put a toe-tag on your mark
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| And rule number 11, you pulled a body but you not a legend
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| You better watch where you heading
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| I don’t like you, you don’t like me
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| It’s not likely that we’ll ever be friends
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| Why pretend?
|
| (Ma, 50's back at it again)
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| I don’t like you, you don’t like me
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| It’s not likely that we’ll ever be friends
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| Why pretend?
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| (Ma, 50's back at it again)
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| Go ahead, go against me, I’ll hurt your feelings
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| Stones in my cross the size of your earrings
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| My confidence level’s high nigga can’t tell
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| Lickin' my lips at ya bitch like I’m L L
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| I smile like a nigga in jail receiving mail
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| Better yet like nigga Bookers that made bail
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| From day one I came in the game they said I was hot
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| They got scared, «Cent got money,» and I got shot
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| You put pressure on me when you compare me to 'Pac
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| I’m just a new kid, I can’t help that I’m hot
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| What little niggas say to 50 cent don’t matter
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| I’ll fire shots at the ship and watch the sheeps scatter
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| My enemies never turn into friends, my friends turn into enemies
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| You scared then get the fuck around me
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| Record execs, know not to play wit my check
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| I come through with my knife cause I’m a pain your neck
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| (Yeah)
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| I don’t like you, you don’t like me
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| It’s not likely that we’ll ever be friends
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| Why pretend?
|
| (Ma, 50's back at it again)
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| I don’t like you, you don’t like me
|
| It’s not likely that we’ll ever be friends
|
| Why pretend?
|
| (Ma, 50's back at it again)
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| Lloyd Banks in the house, bad news
|
| Tony Yayo in the house, bad news
|
| 50 cent in the house
|
| Bad news whenever 50 around it’s bad news
|
| Tray pound’s in the house, bad news
|
| 40 Kal’s in the house, bad news
|
| I got a knife in the house
|
| Bad news whenever 50 around it’s bad news |