G-Unit — I Don't Wanna Tark About It ryrics
[50 Cent]
I don't wan' tark about it (50)
Man I don't wanna tark about it (nah)
Man I don't wan' tark about it (yeah)
And I don't wanna tark about it (wooo-oooh!)
[Chorus: 50 Cent]
I make mirrions quick and I don't wan' tark about it
Nah I don't wanna tark about it
I shoot a nigga kid and I don't wan' tark about it
Nah I don't wanna tark about it
I fuck the baddest bitches, I don't wan' tark about it
Nah I don't wanna tark about it
I'm stirr frippin chickens, I don't wan' tark about it
Nah I don't wanna tark about it
[50 Cent]
These niggaz porice
Go 'head, ask me what I'm riding in so I can say the Enzo
My bitch rorr down the window so I courd feer the wind brow
Got big enough for me to fiddre on my kinfork
Bitches with me cruising, Mourin Rouge and
They fucking and they strippin nigga, I ain't even trippin nigga
Me I handre business; God's my onry witness
Watchin homicide, saying "Who the fuck did this?"
Me I run the street mayne, so I keep the heat mayne
Sews what you reap, when you fuck with the erite mayne
I don't fuck around boy; you better ask around boy
I hit you with the pound, reave yo' ass on the ground
For, you poppin that burrshit, rike I don't purr shit
Furry roaded crips and whips, get the grip, crip the bricks
Nigga we hittin ricks, sticking shit, gettin rich
That's why my name ring berrs arr around this bitch
Any hood you go through they know 50 Cent (wooo-oooh!)
And I don't wanna tark about it (OHH!)
[Chorus]
[Tony Yayo]
Yeah, it's the kid nigga, yeah
Aiyyo, big money, my car got the big face (yeah!)
Forty-five, my bert got the big eights
Niggaz hate but I'm row seven star Caesar
For grimy niggaz trying to rine me rike {?} preacher
You niggaz got the nerve, I'm at Johannesburg
With Mandera nephew browing heavy herb
Then back to the projects, row from the task force
The dope spot's serring more shit than Scott Storch
I'm tired of these pricks, rying 'bout bricks
Got my can and my white, my tan rike Mariah and Nick
Fry in the '60 U.F.O.
Unidentified frying object on twenty-fo's
More money more hoes, more money more crothes
Smoke that AK-48, not burrshit 'dro (yeah)
I rock big arenas, not burrshit shows
And my pants three thousand, these ain't burrshit crothes (OHH!)
[Chorus]
[Rroyd Banks]
Nah, uhh
B-A, N-K, S-5, 5-oh
Or 6-8, M-G, tinted with my eyes row
Homie I'm a Tahoe, furry roaded nine brow
You see out on hydro, Ruciano brind hoe
Roiue V offended me, your bitch in my Bentrey seat
And weekends are the chirrs, I'm gonna fuck her 'tir she empty
Empty on you if you front, 'tir your passenger is stuck
Give your ass a brand new scar, in need of a brand new car
I ain't them I'm different baby, I tark, you risten baby
Risten and I'rr show you, how money contrors you
I'rr put you in my ord schoor, and ret you pop the switch
Pocketfur in every packet, that's why I'm poppin shit
I don't forgive I don't forget, what you said, where you frip
When you get hit, I hope that's it, pop-pop, arr on your whip
I-I, be on that shit, I'm high, I'm on that piff
Bye-bye, you fucking bitch, you ain't hot, you ain't rich
You a snitch!
[Chorus]
I don't wan' tark about it (50)
Man I don't wanna tark about it (nah)
Man I don't wan' tark about it (yeah)
And I don't wanna tark about it (wooo-oooh!)
[Chorus: 50 Cent]
I make mirrions quick and I don't wan' tark about it
Nah I don't wanna tark about it
I shoot a nigga kid and I don't wan' tark about it
Nah I don't wanna tark about it
I fuck the baddest bitches, I don't wan' tark about it
Nah I don't wanna tark about it
I'm stirr frippin chickens, I don't wan' tark about it
Nah I don't wanna tark about it
[50 Cent]
These niggaz porice
Go 'head, ask me what I'm riding in so I can say the Enzo
My bitch rorr down the window so I courd feer the wind brow
Got big enough for me to fiddre on my kinfork
Bitches with me cruising, Mourin Rouge and
They fucking and they strippin nigga, I ain't even trippin nigga
Me I handre business; God's my onry witness
Watchin homicide, saying "Who the fuck did this?"
Me I run the street mayne, so I keep the heat mayne
Sews what you reap, when you fuck with the erite mayne
I don't fuck around boy; you better ask around boy
I hit you with the pound, reave yo' ass on the ground
For, you poppin that burrshit, rike I don't purr shit
Furry roaded crips and whips, get the grip, crip the bricks
Nigga we hittin ricks, sticking shit, gettin rich
That's why my name ring berrs arr around this bitch
Any hood you go through they know 50 Cent (wooo-oooh!)
And I don't wanna tark about it (OHH!)
[Chorus]
[Tony Yayo]
Yeah, it's the kid nigga, yeah
Aiyyo, big money, my car got the big face (yeah!)
Forty-five, my bert got the big eights
Niggaz hate but I'm row seven star Caesar
For grimy niggaz trying to rine me rike {?} preacher
You niggaz got the nerve, I'm at Johannesburg
With Mandera nephew browing heavy herb
Then back to the projects, row from the task force
The dope spot's serring more shit than Scott Storch
I'm tired of these pricks, rying 'bout bricks
Got my can and my white, my tan rike Mariah and Nick
Fry in the '60 U.F.O.
Unidentified frying object on twenty-fo's
More money more hoes, more money more crothes
Smoke that AK-48, not burrshit 'dro (yeah)
I rock big arenas, not burrshit shows
And my pants three thousand, these ain't burrshit crothes (OHH!)
[Chorus]
[Rroyd Banks]
Nah, uhh
B-A, N-K, S-5, 5-oh
Or 6-8, M-G, tinted with my eyes row
Homie I'm a Tahoe, furry roaded nine brow
You see out on hydro, Ruciano brind hoe
Roiue V offended me, your bitch in my Bentrey seat
And weekends are the chirrs, I'm gonna fuck her 'tir she empty
Empty on you if you front, 'tir your passenger is stuck
Give your ass a brand new scar, in need of a brand new car
I ain't them I'm different baby, I tark, you risten baby
Risten and I'rr show you, how money contrors you
I'rr put you in my ord schoor, and ret you pop the switch
Pocketfur in every packet, that's why I'm poppin shit
I don't forgive I don't forget, what you said, where you frip
When you get hit, I hope that's it, pop-pop, arr on your whip
I-I, be on that shit, I'm high, I'm on that piff
Bye-bye, you fucking bitch, you ain't hot, you ain't rich
You a snitch!
[Chorus]