You Need Me
50 Cent, Tony Yayo, Lloyd Banks
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Yeah, it's 50 Look, you need me man You need me I mean, you hate me But you need me 'Cause I got the best product man I mean look, it's pure, it's pure as snow I'm a South side nigga I'm warning you, You could get smoked when I come through, okay, okay If sellin' cocaine is what you tryna do, I could be a good connect for you, okay, okay (50 Cent!) Look bitch, he can't treat you the way I do, Now lay back, Maybach '62, okay, okay Now I got a bunch of paper I wanna spend And I'ma grind, I'ma stack, and I'ma do it again, okay, okay Lemme show you how Lemme show you how I can show you how Lemme show you how! This is that Porsche GT shit That Baltimore G shit That body-bag, dope-fiend dead off O-D shit Fish scale cookin' I'm Chef-Boyar-50 I get my hands on that paper, y'all need to f*ck wit' me, bitch Who want the dice, pray the outcome's nice like seven or eleven, I'ma winner Pick up the chips, better yet, bitch, pick up the bricks Tell the valet to bring us the whip Look at the Vegas lights I told ya, I'll light up ya life Pull up to the floor in a Ricky Hatton fight I'ma champion baby, a little bit crazy But crazy's unpredictable, and that's entertaining So you hear the boss up, concrete blue, gossip Media take out, let 'em talk while I cake out I can't be more than me But you can make me out to be what you want me to be 50! It's just a pinch man It's a sample You're not supposed to get high off the sample You're just supposed to feel a buzz I'm not tryna get you where you need to go, with this I'm just havin' fun, you know? You probably waiting for a next verse well there's not a next verse comin' I'm just playing man You could take a bag of this right here We'll call this the body bag Lemme put a stamp on this dog right here Yeah, that blue magic shit Jay gave you But I know you need to get high again Damn Nigga, if life is a gamble, roll the dice If the Feds kick the door then it's natural life, okay, okay I got the dope in the vice Eight pots on the stove Move eight bricks on about eight hoes, okay, okay I ain't a Frank Lucas lover, I'ma block hugger I respect real G's like Don Fischer I'm not ya middle man I'm ya boss man, Pablo Escobar King of New York man King of the coke man King of the dope man Work got got It's fresh off the boat man Ask fish bone if I had fish scale Jump in the '6 let that bitch fish scale For real It feels like silk This is that Sin City Golden Navy Players Club Sue's Rendezvous I mean this is like head Good Sex Now watch this climax I'll take it to the next level Come on (Yeah) Lloyd Banks! There's a lot of product out there But I'm the pure thing 4 rings, Ross-niggas, the guns And court swings Hip-Hop-Heroine I'm better than whoever, when I inject the medicine it turns into a fetish Fettuccine when I dine Rap, white Line Wanna recline My jewels' blind I got a EB9, grind My Mercedes ride by 'em My ladies top dime I line 'em up, I ain't here to make friends, I'm 'bout a buck I man the game like a corner Everybody cut-throatin', hopin' they can catch a come up, run up on a nigga jokin' You strong enough for smokin'? That 2K raw, No bag, get back You get what you paid for Whore (This is 50 dot com!)
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Written by: Mariah Carey, Rhett Lawrence
Lyrics © BMG Rights Management, Universal Music Publishing Group
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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"You Need Me Lyrics." Lyrics.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 8 May 2024. <https://www.lyrics.com/lyric/13976188/50+Cent/You+Need+Me>.
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