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Lloyd Banks( Christopher Charles Lloyd )
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Lyricist:Christopher Charle Lloyd, Jack Polo, Peter Rogers
Yeah, uh, yeah I like the way that sound Now
Check, nigga ya feelin' like a frog in a jump One weed will bring you from the bottom of the trunk From the trunk to the dump I'ma rain on em, put the chump a slump Like a rib shot, that's what the customers want
Don't cha? this ain't the typical story Therefore I don't fall in the category I'm cool calm and collective, you con on a Lexus Blew chronic for breakfast, it match with the necklace
Nines only down til' the rats wanna check this Reckless, born treacherous, sworn specialist Especially if you rest next to me Nigga come testin' me, you get the gun recipe, pop
These old niggaz want the new born sound Actin' like they don't know who holdin' New York down Yeah, I used to buy Nick's, ten years later now I'm super-fly slick without a roof on my whip, shit
I sip a hundred proof til' I'm ripped And wave at the haters who got a root canal sick Tell niggaz 'Like to make a scene' so the llama's close That kind of shit don't fly like mama jokes
So they got 'em long-short, old kinda toast More out of left shit, trailers all around the coast To places you get around by boat, I get a pound I smoke I put 'em down I'm dope
I'm real scope when I pass the block, I make traffic stop A prodigal A thing that make the apple rot Since Apple Jacks, way long before the platinum plaques The Pro Tools and the wax
Take a step back 'fore you catch a contact The flows like an M16 with an arm-strap I'ma bomb on niggaz until they can't bomb back The Hiroshima demeanor, microphone crack
Find more lyrics at ※ Mojim.com All of shit changed since I came A lot came round here, fuckin' up the game Therefore I ain't servin' nothin' but the pain You playin', I'm hungry than a motherfucker mayn'
Rob a store before you walk around poor 'Cause you ain't gettin' nothin' from me, you grown boy You fuelin' up my fire when you hate So I'ma lean on ya' til' you make a mistake
I can't wait until the curtains close, it's just me, the toolie In them purple O's, indoor overload Drive like I own the roads, these niggaz is pus' That's why my shoulders cold, mac by the toted bow
I'm ridin' filthy in the Beamer 'Cause I can have Lamina the Calina bring it to a misdemeanor You drown in deep water, any nigga around Come from the street corner, where you need your heat on ya
I'm on the climb, while my next CD climbs South side, Greedy Dine, red wine, DB9, NYPD grind Why? It ain't an easy grind A nigga try to get mine, I'ma feed him nine
And it's graffiti time, niggaz sprayin' ya mural For try'na by a motherfuckin' hero I'm fresh, fly and flashy, best guy if you ask me Jet by on 'em nasty, nigga get in the taxi I can't wait
All of shit changed since I came A lot came round here, fuckin' up the game Therefore I ain't servin' nothin' but the pain You playin', I'm hungry than a motherfucker' mayn'
Rob a store before you walk around poor 'Cause you ain't gettin' nothin' from me, you grown boy You fuelin' up my fire when you hate So I'ma lean on ya' til' you make a mistake I can't wait
G-Unit Raw
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