Letra de Position of Power - 50 Cent

Ha ha ha! I told niggas (Yeah) not to shoot dice with me

Look at this stack

I got money, I got money!

Ha ha ha

Aw nigga don't trip, I'll kill you if you fuck with my grip

I won't hesitate to let off a clip

Aw nigga don't trip, you gon' make me get on some shit

Run up on you quick, wet up your whip

Aw nigga don't trip, you gon' get your monkey-ass hit

Runnin your lip, tryna fuck with my clique

Aw nigga don't trip, in case you didn't know who this is

It's 50 Cent bitch, G-Unit

Aw nigga don't trip

I come through your hood, stuntin' in my yellow Lam'

Murcielago, top down, nigga damn

I'm the biggest crook from New York since Son of Sam

Cruising, bumping Buck's shit, Ruger in my hand

Thinking the East ain't enough, it's time to expand

I plan to head out West and plant my feet down

A nigga big as King Kong in the street now

I do a little house shopping, and buy me a crib

It's palm trees and pretty bitches out in Cali kid

I touch the Hollywood paper, go and shoot me some flicks

Have some supermodel bitches come and suck on some dick

Mama'd turn in her grave if I married a white chick

But Becky'll suck the chrome off a Chevy and shit

Niggas be wearing fake shines, I'm rocking a lil' charm

30 carats on the pinky, kiss the ring on the Don

Crack open that Cali bud, stuff the weed in the palm

Nigga you hustle, but me I'll hustle harder

I got what you need; them trees, that hard, that powder

My niggas move G-packs, every hour on the hour

They shoot when I say shoot, so I'm in a position of power

You fuck around if you wanna

Where I'm from you learn to blend in or get touched

I don't need niggas for support, I don't walk with a crutch

Niggas know my steez, they don't fuck with me son

You got a appetite for hollow-tips, I feed you my gun

This is that Ferrari F-50 shit, it's real laid back

Type shit you recline to in the Maybach

I got two shooters now on the run from the fuzz

You get the same shit for ten bodies you get from one cuz

I live life in the fast lane; hundred miles an hour

Chrome and some wood grain

You know a nigga still really tryin to move 'caine

Make a little extra money on the side mayne, I ain't playing

I'm up early with the birds, word, putting that work in

Pirellis on the Porsche chirping, I'm making moves

I got a hundred mil from music, a hundred grand from crack

Gonna see my jeweler so I can blow a stack

Nigga you hustle, but me I'll hustle harder

I got what you need; them trees, that hard, that powder

My niggas move G-packs, every hour on the hour

They shoot when I say shoot, so I'm in a position of power

You fuck around if you wanna

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