"You" lyrics
[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 with you
You love that bitch
[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 little 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 doggy-style bruisin' up my neck 'cause my "ice" on
You ever had sex with a icon, huh
[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 with you
You love that bitch
You know you was wrong when you spend the dough
You told that ho "Keep it on the low"
She ran her mouth now everybody know
You's a trick-ass nigga for sure
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
Your head game good, I can get done quick
'Cause some hoes is celibate, they're 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
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 with you
You love that bitch
[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 your neck 'cause you 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 to 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 with Carlos, he breakin' you off
I'ma have you 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
[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 with you
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 with you
You love that bitch
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 with you
You love that bitch
[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 little 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 doggy-style bruisin' up my neck 'cause my "ice" on
You ever had sex with a icon, huh
[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 with you
You love that bitch
You know you was wrong when you spend the dough
You told that ho "Keep it on the low"
She ran her mouth now everybody know
You's a trick-ass nigga for sure
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
Your head game good, I can get done quick
'Cause some hoes is celibate, they're 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
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 with you
You love that bitch
[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 your neck 'cause you 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 to 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 with Carlos, he breakin' you off
I'ma have you 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
[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 with you
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 with you
You love that bitch
