[Intro: 50 Cent]
They don't do it like we do
They don't do it like we do
We keep it gangsta
They don't do it like we do
Cause they don't live like we do
We keep it gangsta
Di-di di-da, di di-di, dida di-day
N***as is scared to death of me, they know I don't play
Di-di di-da, di di-di, dida di-day
N***as don't want it, I bring it to 'em anyway

[Verse 1: 50 Cent]
I'm gettin' paper, things are changin', bitches love 50
They in da club wit' me, poppin' the bub wit' me
You should see I'm in the tele, in the tub wit' me
Rubbin' all on my back like they in love wit' me
I'm a grimey ass n***a, I'm far from a don
Still a million n***as come at me, kick it like Farrakhan
I'm in your club wearin' whatever, I ain't tryna be cute
Deuce-deuce in my booth, fuck you lookin' at dude?
We the reason that the D's is searchin' for bundles
The reason that they make you take your shoes off at the tunnel
Party wit' us and get ya link popped, I got ya bank stopped
Diesel like a n***a home on furlow in a tank top
You know how we roll, back to back, expose, sippin' V.S.O
I D.W.I., I'm a real wise guy
[Interlude: 50 Cent]
They don't do it like we do
Cause they don't live like we do
We keep it gangsta

[Chorus: 50 Cent & N.O.R.E.]
They don't thug n***as out like we do
They don't stay iced out like we do
Who keep the bar priced out like we do?
We thug 'em out, what-what, bloody his mouth, what-what
They don't thug n***as out like we do
They don't stay iced out like we do
Who keep the bar priced out like we do?
We thug 'em out, what-what, bloody his mouth, what-what

[Verse 2: 50 Cent]
Some wanna check me, some respect me
Some sit around tables plottin' to wet me
When y'all n***as come y'all better come correctly
Do you understand me?
Do-do-do-do-do-do-do-do, gangsta shit
I'm laughin' straight to the muthafuckin' bank wit' this, haha
Inside we got razors, outside we got MACs
That's why we act like we don't know how to act
Who wanna got chopped? who wanna get shot?
Who wanna get these Cristal bottles smashed all across they knot?
Dupe, I run wit' grimey n***as that's down to tear the club up
You run wit' dirty n***as that wash and tear the tub up
My n***as get knocked wit'out Glocks, there go the shop
They get sticked six months, then come right back to the block
I told Tony, we approaching the game strongly
I don't give a fuck if I'm rubbin' these n***as the wrong way, what-what
[Chorus: 50 Cent & N.O.R.E.]
They don't thug n***as out like we do
They don't stay iced out like we do
Who keep the bar priced out like we do?
We thug 'em out, what-what, bloody his mouth, what-what
They don't thug n***as out like we do
They don't stay iced out like we do
Who keep the bar priced out like we do?
We thug 'em out, what-what, bloody his mouth, what-what

[Verse 3: 50 Cent]
Yo, yo in the local club n***as stay gettin' hit
All they do is clean up the blood, change the name and reopen the shit
I watch n***as sip cups and cherish Hennessy as they hard
They get drunk, then they wanna thump
That's why I get a kick outta makin' em sick
Ice on the wrist, big as the shit Titanic hit
Now shorties in my hood sayin' they like my style
Hoes in Hollywood sayin' I'm too wild
I'm gettin' plenty paper, my head is still nappy
I'm still plottin' to pop police like Pappy
Mason, n***as clearly don't understand what they facin'
Let them get outta line then I have to lace them
They runnin' for they life then I have to chase them
And let shot off in bump-a-clot head
Style's awesome, ain't it?
The flow's flawless, flip like a cordless jack
Applaud this black, this ain't ya average rap
[Chorus: 50 Cent & N.O.R.E.]
They don't thug n***as out like we do
They don't stay iced out like we do
Who keep the bar priced out like we do?
We thug 'em out, what-what, bloody his mouth, what-what
They don't thug n***as out like we do
They don't stay iced out like we do
Who keep the bar priced out like we do?
We thug 'em out, what-what, bloody his mouth, what-what

[Interlude: 50 Cent]
Gangsta shit, 2000 shit
Yo, ayo first they didn't like me, now they let me hit it up
Shawty is a pro son, she know how to get it up
You ain't got keep it on the low son, her head game is crazy

[Outro: 50 Cent]
Erick Sermon, 2000 shit
Def Squad n***a, 50 Cent n***a
What-what n***a