1. I DON'T WANNA TALK ABOUT IT歌詞

「I DON'T WANNA TALK ABOUT IT」の歌詞 G-Unit

2008/6/27 リリース
作詞
JACKSON CURTIS JAMES,SMITH R,WILSON J
作曲
JACKSON CURTIS JAMES,SMITH R,WILSON J
文字サイズ
よみがな
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(Chorus - 50 Cent)
I make millions quick
And I don't wanna talk about it
(Nah I don't wanna talk about it)
I shoot a nig** kid
And I don't wanna talk about it
(Nah I don't wanna talk about it)
I f**k the baddest bitches
I don't wanna talk about it
(Nah I don't wanna talk about it)
I'm still flippin' chickens
I don't wanna talk about it
(Nah I don't wanna talk about it)

(Verse 1 - 50 Cent)
Go head and ask me what I'm ridin' in
So I can say the Enzo
My bitch roll down the window so I can feel the wind blow
Gotta be big enough for me to fit all of my kin folk
Bitches with me cruzin', Moulin Rougin'
They f**kin' and they strippin nig**, I ain't even trippin' nig**
Me I handle business, God's my only witness
Watchin homicide sayin' who the f**k did this
Me I run the street mann, so I keep the heat mann
Your soul is what you reap, when you f**k with the elite mann
I don't f**k around boy, you better ask around boy
I'll hit you with the pound, leave your ass on the ground fool
You poppin' that bullshit like I don't pull shit
Fully-Loaded clips and whips, get the grip, flip the bricks
Nig** we hittin licks, stickin shit, gettin rich
That's why my name ring bells all round this bitch
Any hood you go through they know 50 Cent

(Chorus)

(Verse 2 - Tony Yayo)
Yeah it's the kid nig**
Big money, my car got the big face
.45 my belt got the big ace
Nig**s hate but I'm low seven star Caesar
For grimey nig**s trynna line me like a po' or preacher
You nig**s got the nerve, I'm in Johannesburg
With Mandela nephew blowin' heavy herb
Back to the projects low from the task force
The dope spots sellin' more shit than Scott Storch
Divided the bricks, lined by bricks
Got my kid and my wife, my tan like Mariah and Nick
Fly in the 60 UH hawk, other than the five flyin' objects most total fouls
Mo money, mo houses, mo money, mo cars
Smoke that AK-48, I blow shit drought
I ride big arenas not bullshit shells
And my pants three thousand these ain't bullshit clouds

(Chorus)

(Verse 3 - Lloyd Banks)
MK, S5, 5-0, '68, MG
Tinted with my eyes low
Homie I'm in Tahoe, fully loaded nine on
Blue Seattle hydro, Lucciano blind hoe
Louis V. and Fendi, me and your bitch in my Bentley seat
Me against the chills, I'ma f**k her til she empty
Empty on you if you front, til your passenger's slummed
Get your ass brand new scar, you need a brand new car
I ain't them, I'm different, baby
I talk, you listen, baby
Listenin' I'll show you how money controls you
I'll put you in my old school and let you pop the switch
Pocket full of every packet, that's why I'm poppin' shit
I don't forgive, I don't forget, what you sayin'
Will you flip, when you get hit, I hope that's a hit
Pop pop, all on your whip, I, I'll be on that shit
I'm hot, I'm gonna piff, bye bye you f**kin' bitch
You ain't hot, you ain't rich, you snitch

(Chorus)