there's nobody home tonight Break out And take it to the floor So I can take you home and give you all the things All the things we're not supposed to do Break out
Cause there's nobody home tonight Break out And take it to the floor So I can take you home and give you all the things All the things we're not supposed to do Break out
and I get expelled yeah I get punished I was supposed to be inside I snuck out the back round the school fo lunch time the police spotted me id break out
ain't gon' step, I know you know I tote iron Quick to bust, and I know you don' wan' die You see eight Bentleys comin' on a late Sunday I know you know that's Cash
that U.P.T. (And who gone run em?) Tha brotha and my B.G. [B.G.] You gotta beat em (That nigga is my lady) Four golds and I'm out there baby [Baby]
of the realist Ding dong, daddys home, to the break of dawn, lets get it on so you can feel it, dick down your spine, I don't mine takin it off, breaking
that, Cause that shit ya spittin now is wack And when the rest of y'all gon realize, Gon realize? That y'all ain't never gon eat more than crust out the pie Cash
if you ain't ridin' on chrome now Get yo shine on and chase yo richest You want to roll right drop yo Benz on twenty inches {B.G.} I get that noise out
I'll be the shooter [Verse One: 50 Cent] I'll bang out, I'll, I'll, I'll bang out Find out shit is real when I'm at you with that thang out Cause all
or the German Luger! [50 Cent:] I-I'll be the shooter! I'll bang out! I-I'll bang out! Find out shit is real when I'm atchu wid that thang out. Cause
they slippin' me sleepin' pills wit' the will I break Broke nigga always tellin' ya how to make ya cash adjust So I just stop listenin' and now my cash
paid over dope fiends fuckin' off cash that I make nigga, what's tha sense of workin hard if you never get tp play i'm hustlen' stayin' out till it's
: Police Dispatcher .. He's headed out a window The man with the bag is running like a son of a bitch We have people with bags running across, running
not? Show em what I'm made of plus raised on, on my block Chancellor Ave, where many turn to the street, thugs snatchin bags We out for power, makin cash
: (Niggas out there jelous cuz we be bailin' with Death Row They try to playa hate but they can't fade us tho' We be mobbin' through tha neigborhood
holdin you back. Explode the track to confetti. Unload it. Cuz niggas ain't ready. The life of an outlaw. Chorus repeats Code 3. Attack formation. Pull out your pistols. Keep an eye out
betta watch yo back Cause these motherfuckers love to see you gone You gotta stay strong, Young brotha, Cause it's on And i'll be slangin these thangs till the break
fuckin' (fuckin'); Chase these crackers that's cuttin' us right now (You should be here) Man you still local I'm out the hood man (I'm out the hood man
