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Banks Workout Ii
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Lloyd Banks
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1
I Been problem since the old days tims and gold caps
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now im in oj simpson throwbacks
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you all was wonderin where my ass been
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probally vacatin in south beach gettin head like ass
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breathin through gas i can let the tech pound ur ego
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lock you in the closet with the westnile mosquito
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the press crowd the people espicially celebritys heavily shittin any tom dick or gregory
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nigga you better be strappin
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they want you dead if you rappin
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iam tryin to cave your head in you backin
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iam gettin bread and relaxin
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and attractin the fan base of females and emails and letters to fax in
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in vegas with a toaster a blunt
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and the hotel i checked in got a roller coaster in the front
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hollerin poster when i stunt the sammy sosa of the month
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better yet the whole seas and nigga iam still breathin even though my dollars are green
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i rap for the kids thats to poor to waste eggs on halloween
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iam gettin swallow clean
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my habits are good collectin all the carrots i could
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slidin from the stash box to conceal extortion
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and a good silencer to make it sound like the wheel of fortune
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all this careless talkin cause im travelin and flossin
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havin a good time and u havin a abortion
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you sucker for love gettin married and divorced than
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you cant even afford the batteries 4 ur walkman
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man im out the hood burnin cali weed on slauson when set trip can turn to tragedys and coffins
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i mean what im sayin you schemin iam sprayin ur team isnt playin
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on the sofa screamin and and prayin sayin
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gunit niggas be rollin crazy holdin 80s older ladies starin cause they starin at he gold mercedes
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since 50 hooked up with shady
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now they tryin to brook up to pay me
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if u think iam shook up u crazy baby
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the boy strapped two ninas
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smokin out a bag big enough to fit in vaccum cleaners
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i wear a glove when i blaze a fatty,
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i aint ur baby daddy, u flippin
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now he tryin to grab me out that navy caddie, i aint ur avy,
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poppa was a rollin stone,
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stockin up the hona home,
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pocket full of loaded chrome,
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drop get a hold a dome,
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i know ur motive homes,
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u mad cause im fuckin half ur motorolla phone,
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im swift with the wemon im good wit my words, alota,
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niggas is hatin on what i deserve im hotta,
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front if u want end up on the curb in ur prada,
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and ur mans runnin ambulance come,
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another day another dollar on the low from the impala
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i can have a six some in my shower, mother fucka!
Lloyd Banks - Hands Up ft. 50 Cent
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