Position Of Power Lyrics - The Massacre - 50 Cent

From the album Valentine Day's Massacre 

[Intro] 

Hahaha 

I told niggas not to shoot dice with me 

Look at this stack 

I got money 

I got money 

Hahaha 

[50 Cent] 

Aww nigga don't trip 

I'll kill ya if you fuck with my grip 

I won't hesitate to let off a clip 

Aww nigga don't trip 

You gon' make me get on some shit 

Run up on you quick 

What up, you're whipped 

Aww nigga don't trip 

You gon' get ya monkey ass hit 

Run in ya whip tryna fuck with my clique 

Aww nigga don't trip 

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Case you didn't know who this is 

Its 50 Cent bitch, G-Unit 

Aww nigga don't trip 

[Verse 1- 50 Cent] 

I come through your hood, stuntin' in my yellow lam 

? loud gold top down, nigga damn 

I'm the biggest crook from New York since son of Sam 

Cruisin', bumpin' Bugz shit, ruger in my hand 

Thinkin' the east ain't enough, its time to expand 

I plan to head out west and plant my feet down 

A nigga big as King King in the street now 

I do a lil house shoppin', and buy me a crib 

Its palm trees and pretty bitches out in Cali kid 

I touched the Hollywood paper, go and shoot me some flicks 

Photos 

Have some supermodel bitches come and suck on my dick 

My mom turn in her grave if I married a white chick 

But baby'll suck the chrome off the Chevy and shit 

niggas be wearin' fake signs, I'm rockin' a lil charm 

Thirty karrots on the pinky, kiss the ring on the Don 

Crack open that Cali bud, stuff the weight in the bomb 

[Chorus- 50 Cent] 

nigga you hustle, but me I hustle harder 

I got what you need, them trees, that heart, that powder 

My niggas we gee packs, devour on the hour 

They shoot when I say shoot, so I'm in the position of power 

You fuck around if you wanna 

[Verse 2- 50 Cent] 

Where I'm from, you learn to blend in, or get touched 

I don't need niggas for support, I don't walk with a crutch 

niggas know my stage, they don't fuck with me son 

You got an appetite for hollow-tips, I'll feed you my gun 

This is that ferrari F-50 shit, its real layed back 

Type shit you recline to in the Maybach 

I got two suiters now, on the run from the fuzz 

You get the same shit for ten bodies, you get for one cuz 

I live life in the fast lane, 100 miles an hour, chrome and some wood grain 

You know a nigga still really tryna move cane 

Make a lil extra money on the side mayn 

I ain't playin', I'm up early with the birds word 

Puttin' that work in, parrelli's on the Porsche chirpin' 

I got a hundred mill from music, a hundred grand from crack 

Goin' to see my niggaeler, so I can blow a stack 

[Chorus- 50 Cent] 

nigga you hustle, but me I hustle harder 

I got what you need, them trees, that heart, that powder 

My niggas we gee packs, devour on the hour 

They shoot when I say shoot, so I'm in the position of power 

You fuck around if you wanna