50 Cent: I need a girl

Yo u kno me I'm a straight-up niggaSo I tell a bitch exactly what I wanna do ya knah sayin?If I'm in a club and I'm tryin to go home I'm like "Yo ma wassup"Ya kno get wit u ya knoI mean tonight tho, not like next monthNone of dat other shit ya knah sayin?But u kno every now and then I be lyinI aint gonn front, I be lyin to the hoes manI can tell a bitch exactly what she wanna hear[Verse 1 - 50 Cent]I wanna be the reason u smile after u wipe ya tearsThe reason you have the courage to confront ya fearsThe reason theres 2 karats in each of ya earsI'll splurge wit the paper ma, I dont careHow u like it, pumps or boots?Jeeps or Coupes? Minks or leathers?50 fall off neverWhats mine is yours and whats yours is mineCuz when I shine, you shine c'monFine champange, we can toast to lifeCrap table in Vegas u could toss the diceDon't let ya friends get u confused, sayin "50 bad news"I need u in my life girl, ya too much to loseAy Puffy stop makin them muthafuckin "I miss J.Lo" records niggaYo Chi, turn this shit off man I aint feelin this shit right nowPut sum hard shit on--beats switches--Yea c'mon uh hahaha yo[Chorus 2x - 50 Cent]Nigga u wont deny that I'm a fuckin riderYou dont wanna bump heads wit meI'll put a hole in yo ass you'll seeThat it aint cool to fuck wit me[Verse 2 - Tony Yayo]G Unit.. I roll wit gorillazFuck a big bodyguard I hang wit pint-sized killersI aint tryin to be dirty - still on the stripI'm tryin to be dirty - filthy richGive a nigga too much rope he think he a cowboyGive him too much dope I'm pushin a big boyV-12 XL detailI rap and wait for dem checks in the mailAnd if u hatin in due time ya life will expireCuz my guns speak Jamaican they be like "Bloodfire!"Where I'm from niggas be on sum sneak shitWhen hungry use they lighters to cook they beef stickAnd its dro and its Nestle, got me rightSo my lungs be as black as Wesley SnipesI'm on first class flights headed towards VegasNot slot machine niggas, we crap table playasI roll a 7 cuz we crap table playas[Chorus 2x][Verse 3 - Lloyd Banks]I kno alot of niggas want Banks goneBut my kinda beef'll fuck up ya grill and not the kind u put franks goneI'm hot now so my meals is home-cookedI deal wit more hoes than a Chinese phonebookYou hidin wit ya messed-up ratchetsI'm out blowin haze bags the size of ketchup packetsFuck Uz' in ya ride, this tool's on my sideGot females standin' wit tattoos on her thighsVisualize cats losin they wives Cuz the next time I see em they got black and blues on they eyesNah I aint ready to die but I'm preparedI'd rather grow old wit gray hairs in my bedThey kno me in the field, the kid wit the fansThat argue over my balls like Kobe and ShaquilleIf u talkin bout millions throw me in the dealBig city stadium tour roll me in the wheels muhfucka..