Song lyrics downloaded from: https://www.albumsongandlyrics.com ------------------------------------------ 50 Cent - Position of power ------------------------------------------ [Intro] Hahaha I told niggas not to shoot dice with me Look at this stack I got money I got money Hahaha [50 Cent] Aww nigga donīt trip Iīll kill ya if you fuck with my grip I wonīt hesitate to let off a clip Aww nigga donīt trip You gonī make me get on some shit Run up on you quick What up, youīre whipped Aww nigga donīt trip You gonī get ya monkey ass hit Run in ya whip tryna fuck with my clique Aww nigga donīt trip Case you didnīt know who this is Its 50 Cent bitch, G-Unit Aww nigga donīt trip [Verse 1- 50 Cent] I come through your hood, stuntinī in my yellow lam ?? loud gold top down, nigga damn Iīm the biggest crook from New York since son of Sam Cruisinī, bumpinī Bugz shit, ruger in my hand Thinkinī the east ainīt enough, its time to expand I plan to head out west and plant my feet down A nigga big as King King in the street now I do a lil house shoppinī, and buy me a crib Its palm trees and pretty bitches out in Cali kid I touched the Hollywood paper, go and shoot me some flicks Have some supermodel bitches come and suck on my dick My mom turn in her grave if I married a white chick But babyīll suck the chrome off the Chevy and shit niggas be wearinī fake signs, Iīm rockinī a lil charm Thirty karrots on the pinky, kiss the ring on the Don Crack open that Cali bud, stuff the weight in the bomb [Chorus- 50 Cent] nigga you hustle, but me I hustle harder I got what you need, them trees, that heart, that powder My niggas we gee packs, devour on the hour They shoot when I say shoot, so Iīm in the position of power You fuck around if you wanna [Verse 2- 50 Cent] Where Iīm from, you learn to blend in, or get touched I donīt need niggas for support, I donīt walk with a crutch niggas know my stage, they donīt fuck with me son You got an appetite for hollow-tips, Iīll feed you my gun This is that ferrari F-50 shit, its real layed back Type shit you recline to in the Maybach I got two suiters now, on the run from the fuzz You get the same shit for ten bodies, you get for one cuz I live life in the fast lane, 100 miles an hour, chrome and some wood grain You know a nigga still really tryna move cane Make a lil extra money on the side mayn I ainīt playinī, Iīm up early with the birds word Puttinī that work in, parrelliīs on the Porsche chirpinī I got a hundred mill from music, a hundred grand from crack Goinī to see my ***eler, so I can blow a stack [Chorus- 50 Cent] nigga you hustle, but me I hustle harder I got what you need, them trees, that heart, that powder My niggas we gee packs, devour on the hour They shoot when I say shoot, so Iīm in the position of power You fuck around if you wanna