Lyricist : Curtis Jackson

Composer : Curtis Jackson

[Chorus: Leon Thomas]

No one told us what we're here for

Lord, don't you let us get guided wrong, no

Poverty is all we know

So hustlin' is all we know

Forgive us for our sins, Lord

No one told us what we're here for

[Verse: 50 Cent]

I'm a magician, I put that pain in the pot

Ice cubes, watch it lock

Now look at what we got

I turn a brick to a drop

A fiend strip to a spot

A G-Pack to a knot

Your sister into a thot

From storefronts to a block

A lil' bread to a lot

Slap box to the Glock

Turned a stab wound to a shot

I know magic, black magic, blue magic

Get the duji, bitch, get the Uzi

Niggas still couldn't move me

I'm back with my dope boy grammar

Your daddy made your mama eat every box in Atlanta

Freak s**t, peep s**t, keep s**t

On the low, but everybody know

[Chorus: Leon Thomas]

No one told us what we're here for

Lord, don't you let us get guided wrong, no

Poverty is all we know

So hustlin' is all we know

Forgive us for our sins, Lord

No one told us what we're here for

[Outro: Leon Thomas]

Ah, oh-oh, ooh

Ooh, oh-oh, ah