[Chorus: 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 wit'chu

You love that bitch

[Verse 1: 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 lil head then I let my man fuck 'em, it's nothing

You give her the money to shop for the crib

How you think she 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 doggystyle bruisin' up my neck 'cause my ice on

You ever had sex with a icon, huh

[Chorus: 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 wit'chu

You love that bitch

[Verse 2: 50 Cent]

You know you was wrong when you spend the dough

You told that ho "keep it on the low"

She ran her mouth now ev'ybody know

You's a trick ass nigga fo sho

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

Ya head game good, I can get done quick

'Cause some hoes is celibate, they 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

[Chorus: 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 wit'chu

You love that bitch

[Verse 3: 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 ya neck 'cause ya 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 ta 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 wit Carlos, he breakin' you off

I'ma have ya 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

[Chorus: 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 wit'chu

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 wit'chu

You love that bitch