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Lloyd Banks
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1
Yea, uh
2
Yea
3
This is dedicated to the G's, the P's, the C's, niggas thats in the B's
4
I guess this ain't somethin' for the radio
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But I'm hot, so I'ma make these muh'fuckas play it though
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I wan-na shine
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Nigga don't make me re-sort to crime
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I guess this ain't somethin' for the radio
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That's where they made me go, right back to the streets
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My old head went to bed, croaked over the liquor
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His attitude leaked out, all over a nigga; I love him
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He made me harder, made me smarter, I'm young and I'm thuggin'
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Enemy to ya baby father, the one that they muggin'
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Therefore they'd rather see a nigga plug him, cuz the hoes dug him
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Dig him, I line 'em up and get 'em
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Then I forget 'em, cuz I don't babysit 'em
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If he's on a bootycall then he got the 380 wit' him
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If he's headed to the mall, then it's in Mercedes driven
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Or the pea green Stormer, the color of marijuana
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I don't follow rules, I'd rather do what I wanna
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Stand out like a Bent' on the avenue in the summer
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I was low in the cabin, had the view of the lumber
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Think about the has-beens, mad I'm doin' my number
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When I leave out the spot, I drag a few in the Humber
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Brrup, you're now rockin' wit the boy wonder
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Yea
27
This is dedicated to the G's, the P's, the C's, niggas thats in the B's
28
I guess this ain't somethin' for the radio
29
But I'm hot, so I'ma make these muh'fuckas play it though
30
I wan-na shine
31
Nigga don't make me re-sort to crime
32
I guess this ain't somethin' for the radio
33
That's where they made me go, right back to the streets
34
1982 the year I came thru, I saw
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Exactly what I been tryna show to you, or
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You can putcha seatbelt on I'll take ya to
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Where the hood's the arena and the block's the pay-per-view
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I'ma New York nigga, but they love me everywhere
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A soldier, yea...without the military gear
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I'm the flow-er of the year and I rap like I ain't rich
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We all know the kind of respect that Banks gets
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I'm frost bit, 50 grand on the bracelet
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It's a quarter a piece, I'm so close I can taste it
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Run up on me, ya hat and ya head is blown
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Laid out on ya neck, as flat as a herringbone
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All I need is a pitch, a bat and I'm headin' home
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Uh, I'll fly ya head out the park soon as ya start
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You big as a pound puppy, wit a whole lot of bark
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Ya either half crazy, or gotta whole lot of heart
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Yea
51
This is dedicated to the G's, the P's, the C's, niggas thats in the B's
52
I guess this ain't somethin' for the radio
53
But I'm hot, so I'ma make these muh'fuckas play it though
54
I wan-na shine
55
Nigga don't make me re-sort to crime
56
I guess this ain't somethin' for the radio
57
That's where they made me go, right back to the stree
Lloyd Banks - On Fire (Extended Version)
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