Skip to content

Bad News

50 Cent; G‐Unit
Popularity · Low

Listen

YouTube

0:00 / 0:00
Loading YouTube player...
Lyrics offset
Synced

Lyrics

Lloyd Banks in the house, bad news Tony Yayo in the house, bad news 50 Cent in the house, bad news Whenever 50 around, it's bad news The Tre Pound's in the house, bad news The 40 Cal's in the house, bad news I got my knife in the house, bad news Whenever 50 around, it's bad news Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah I think lil' man mad 'cause I'm flossin' bad I ain't a wrestler, but I put your bitch in a Boston Crab I talk money 'cause it cost to brag Around here, bitches walk around with hair that the horses had Rap'll get your face stuck on them bricks I don't really like to exercise, but I'll push up on a bitch Y'all sweet like ninety-nine bananas That's why I got ninety-nine niggas with ninety-nine hammers They all want a nigga to stop 'Cause I rap slick enough to slip the ring off of Vivica Fox I'm just a player that found out what the coaches know So I'ma be around longer than the Oprah show You and your man, y'all both should know That all it takes is a finger to send you where the ghosts is go Shit, I been hated since the fifth grade That's why my best friend's a tre pound, an icepick, and a switchblade I don't like you, you don't like me It's not likely, that we'll ever be friends Why pretend? (Pretend) Ma, Banks back at it again I don't like you, you don't like me (Mm) It's not likely, that we'll ever be friends Why pretend? (Pretend) Ma, Tony back at it again Rule number one, pick a target and study him for weeks See where they rest at and lay with they peeps Now you got the drop, know they daily routine So the second rule, please leave the crime scene clean Third rule, pick a day, fourth rule, pick a time Fifth rule, pick a fifth, sixth rule, pick a nine And the seventh rule, make sure your sidearm sweet So in the shootout, you leave 'em six feet deep Eighth rule, meet in a fast car with disguise Use a ski mask with shades on your eyes Ninth rule, don't say shit, 'cause po-po listen Fuck around, you end up bein' stuck in the system And the tenth rule, don't put a tag on a broken heart Just put a toe tag on your mark And rule number eleven, you caught a body, but you not a legend You better watch where you headed, look I don't like you, you don't like me It's not likely, that we'll ever be friends Why pretend? (Pretend) Ma, 50 back at it again I don't like you, you don't like me It's not likely, that we'll ever be friends Why pretend? (Pretend) Ma, 50 back at it again Go 'head, go against me, I'll hurt your feelings Stones in my cross the size of your earrings My confidence level is high, nigga, can't tell? Lickin' my lips at your bitch like I'm LL I'm smilin' like a nigga in jail receivin' mail Better yet, like a nigga in the bookings that made bail (Woo) From day one, I came in the game, they said I was hot They got scared, spent that money, and I got shot You put pressure on me when you compare me to Pac I'm just a new kid, I can't help that I'm hot What little niggas say to 50 Cent don't matter I fire shots at the shepherd and watch the sheep scatter My enemies never turn into friends My friends turn to enemies, you scared? Then get the fuck from 'round me Record execs know not to play with my check I come through and put my knife on the veine of your neck, yeah I don't like you, you don't like me It's not likely, that we'll ever be friends Why pretend? (Pretend) Ma, 50 back at it again I don't like you, you don't like me It's not likely, that we'll ever be friends Why pretend? (Pretend) Ma, 50 back at it again Lloyd Banks in the house, bad news Tony Yayo in the house, bad news 50 Cent in the house, bad news Whenever 50 around, it's bad news The Tre Pound's in the house, bad news The 40 Cal's in the house, bad news I got my knife in the house, bad news Whenever 50 around, it's bad news