(feat. Tony Yayo)

[50 Cent]

Yeah, F-50

[Chorus - 50 Cent]

As times go by, I twist a lot

Fuck with me and my niggas, somebody gonna die

You think I'm all poinry, cause you see me
gettin' high

But my knife, I'll have yo ass seein' out one eye

As times go by, I twist a lot

Fuck with me and my niggas, somebody gonna die

You think I'm all poinry, cause you see me
gettin' high (yeah)

But my knife, I'll have yo ass seein' out one eye

[Verse 1 - Tony Yayo]

740 I, with the brand new shake (uh huh)

Got me pissin' on hoes like the R. Kelly tape

If you see me in the club, nothin' but Cris
poppin' (yeah)

See me in court, my lawyers plea bargainin' (woo)

Tryin' to turn a 3 to 6, to a 2 to 4 (uh huh)

Or 1 to 3, for an extra G

RIP to Etho, I miss Hevo

When I die, I hope heaven look like the ghetto
(yeah)

Picture me trick, and take a loss

I'm cheap like the Chinese man with duck sauce

This Tony homey, I walk around with a big chrome

9 L's will hit ya passenger, hit ya driver

G-Unit, you don't know a fuckin' clique liver

(You heard my nigga, you don't know a fuckin'
clique liver)

[Chorus]

As times go by, I twist a lot

Fuck with me and my niggas, somebody gonna die
(yeah)

You think I'm all poinry, cause you see me
gettin' high (uh huh)

But my knife, I'll have yo ass seein' out one eye
(eye)

As times go by, I twist a lot

Fuck with me and my niggas, somebody gonna die

You think I'm all poinry, cause you see me
gettin' high

But my knife, I'll have yo ass seein' out one eye

[Verse 2 - Tony Yayo]

I never mix money and product with my friends (uh
huh)

These chips, make relationships come to an end
(what)

I pull the graveyard shift, gettin' money
non-stop (uh huh)

And been on the block, ever since bunny tops
(c'mon)

250 grizzies, scrape the plate (scrape that
plate)

Got me on 750's straight from the plate (straight
from the plate)

You can call on your soldiers, call your recruits
(uh huh)

I do you dirty like Raheem did Dirty is Juice
(Juice)

Allow myself, to introduce myself

This is Tony, the talk of New York, I'm holdin'
the belt

I got thug in my blood (blood), game like a pimp
(pimp)

And wrote my first verse, takin' baths in the
sink (yeah)

And yo I fear no man son, I never heard of a fair
one

Never gotta borrow a handgun

Niggas on the street, gettin' smoked like bran
son

So I stay dirty like Sanford and Son (yeah)

Groupies gossipin' stay runnin' their lips (woo)

Cause they seen the Gucci seats in the 6 (uh huh)

And seen the Fendi grips on the four fifth (what)

Shit, I sell bricks, shit, I sell shit on a stick
(stick)

Enough of the talkin', let's take it to the
valance (uh huh)

The New York streets, will leave you physically
challenged (challenged)

Don't be surprised, If I spit at you

Then come to your wake, and serve fiends at your
funeral

Our bread is goin' towards a brick of dope

Cause I've been goin' hand and hand since
Different Strokes

I'm a 50, an eighth, you a half a blunt

You the nigga in the mirror that practice stunts

WHAT!