Lyrics

[Chorus: 50 Cent] You, you, you, you, you, you You pay her rent You, you, you, you, you, you You made her rich You, you, you, you, you, you You fuckin' trick You, you, you Man, what's the matter wit'chu You love that bitch [Verse 1: Lloyd Banks] Man your supposed to be a player, why you chasing her for 'Fore she met you, she ain't know the name next door See I don't know about you but I'm a P.I.M.P But you ain't, so your pockets be on empty I let the birds fly I don't handcuff 'em Just get a lil head then I let my man fuck 'em, it's nothing You give her the money to shop for the crib How you think see get to see me, you watchin' the kids My man, you won't catch me all emotional and mushy 'Cause I don't get pussy whipped, I whip on pussy I been all around the world, had 'em big, had 'em small, had 'em tall Chasin' me down the hotel hall Come one, come all, we can wrestle all night long I got special moves like the pretzel in python A doggystyle bruisin' up my neck 'cause my ice on You ever had sex with a icon, huh [Chorus: 50 Cent] You, you, you, you, you, you You pay her rent You, you, you, you, you, you You made her rich You, you, you, you, you, you You fuckin' trick You, you, you Man, what's the matter wit'chu You love that bitch [Verse 2: 50 Cent] You know you was wrong when you spend the dough You told that ho "keep it on the low" She ran her mouth now ev'ybody know You's a trick ass nigga fo sho Bitches run behind us everywhere we go Every state, every show, every video We ain't gotta spend paper on these punk ass hoes I'm a P.I.M.P. in case you ain't know G-Unit in the house bitch, hum it in your mouth bitch Ya head game good, I can get done quick 'Cause some hoes is celibate, they talkin' that nun shit And other hoes are freaky man, they suck more than one dick Presidential suite, the official jump off Bitch you come through the door, let you garments come off But niggas wanna know how I lay my Mack down That Sade Sweetest Taboo in the background [Chorus: 50 Cent] You, you, you, you, you, you You pay her rent You, you, you, you, you, you You made her rich You, you, you, you, you, you You fuckin' trick You, you, you Man, what's the matter wit'chu You love that bitch [Verse 3: Young Buck] I see you holdin' her hands in the mall and shit The whole hood don' fucked who you call your bitch You got her name tattooed on ya neck 'cause ya love her She'll do anything for a magazine cover Them other niggas might pay but not me I been all around the world like Pac and Shock G Look at it my way, better him than me Shit, I'm tryna ta even fuck Lil' Kim for free I got the heart of a thug and the brain of a pimp I don't pay no car notes or help with the rent But I stay wit Carlos, he breakin' you off I'ma have ya in the strip club takin' it off See it ain't my fault that the kid ain't yours And you don' bought everything in her dressing drawer It ain't hard to see, this nigga weak for them hoes The only thing she'll get is dick in her throat Yea [Chorus: 50 Cent] You, you, you, you, you, you You pay her rent You, you, you, you, you, you You made her rich You, you, you, you, you, you You fuckin' trick You, you, you Man, what's the matter wit'chu You love that bitch You, you, you, you, you, you You babysit You, you, you, you, you, you You make me sick You, you, you, you, you, you You fuckin' trick You, you, you Man, what's the matter wit'chu You love that bitch