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3:47 | 
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from G-Unit - T.O.S. (Terminate On Sight) (2008)
Nigga you so tough
Tough until ya heartbeat stop The trey-pound pop Ya arteries shot Ya bleedin and shout Get in the pine box Damn yous a hard muthafucka You so tough Tough until ya punkass hit The four-fifth kick The hypla spit You in deep shit Now yo ass sit You supposed to be hard muthafucka You so tough Bury all ya hatin Cause hatred'll bury ya Learn not to talk tough talk through ya cellular Fuck gettin beef The president the senetor There is no peace You the prey or the pretedor While ya plottin on me I'm 10 steps aheada ya Black 40 calibur I'll putta infer-red on ya Nigga I'm special You mad cause you regular Man I don't want yo bitch I damn near remember her Refresh my memory? Oh yeah, I slept wid her No wonder she ain't mention you When I met wid her Mind on my chedda They remember me forever The groundwork I put in Make my lifestyle better... and better I like the fuckin street Right in them phantom lights Montana life Two women And my hand is ice But I don't forget where I come from Nigga you so tough Tough until ya heartbeat stop The trey-pound pop Ya arteries shot Ya bleedin and shout Get in the pine box Damn yous a hard muthafucka You so tough Tough until ya punkass hit The four-fifth kick The hypla spit You in deep shit Now yo ass sit You supposed to be hard muthafucka You so tough For that china white I'll lay a nigga momma down We can shoot it out Like Frank White did in Chinatown You know I got that hard white You know I got that tannin brown Automatic trey-pound Leave a nigga maned-down Murda murda homicide Real right niggas ride Gangstas, they never hide Thank God I'm still alive My pockets look like there's cracks on me My waist looks like I got the mac on me These hoes on my dick I got that axe on me You a R.N. Regular nigga that rap homie I'm crack homie I'm dope money I wake up and wipe my ass wid coke money C-back, Maybach My shit two-toned Nigga run up on that Yo ass a tombstone I'm wood like a group home Ghetto like a payphone Jake the snake I'm low in the hood Nigga you so tough Tough until ya heartbeat stop The trey-pound pop Ya arteries shot Ya bleedin and shout Get in the pine box Damn yous a hard muthafucka You so tough Tough until ya punkass hit The four-fifth kick The hypla spit You in deep shit Now yo ass sit You supposed to be hard muthafucka You so tough Yeah I got a knife for a tough nigga Nine for a hard nigga Don't make me empty the chamber Even if I'm locked in a cell block You'll fall into shell shock When I open ya head wid the banger I cause a riot in the yard Make a mess in the mess hall Like I jus blew trial And I ain't got nothin left God, what's todays mathematics? Shit ain't addin up Get knocked wid 10 machine guns Only get 12 months? Ooohh weee, don't talk to me You talk to him, you talkin to them I got the best lawyers money can buy They said they woulda got me ten Or maybe nine I say "how do you explain how homie breathe? " He say "you keep ya mouth shut or you in wid G's" Nigga you so tough Tough until ya heartbeat stop The trey-pound pop Ya arteries shot Ya bleedin and shout Get in the pine box Damn yous a hard muthafucka You so tough Tough until ya punkass hit The four-fifth kick The hypla spit You in deep shit Now yo ass sit You supposed to be hard muthafucka You so tough |
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3:47 |
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from G-Unit - T.O.S. (Terminate On Sight) (2008)
Nigga you so tough
Tough until ya heartbeat stop The trey-pound pop Ya arteries shot Ya bleedin and shout Get in the pine box Damn yous a hard muthafucka You so tough Tough until ya punkass hit The four-fifth kick The hypla spit You in deep shit Now yo ass sit You supposed to be hard muthafucka You so tough Bury all ya hatin Cause hatred'll bury ya Learn not to talk tough talk through ya cellular Fuck gettin beef The president the senetor There is no peace You the prey or the pretedor While ya plottin on me I'm 10 steps aheada ya Black 40 calibur I'll putta infer-red on ya Nigga I'm special You mad cause you regular Man I don't want yo bitch I damn near remember her Refresh my memory? Oh yeah, I slept wid her No wonder she ain't mention you When I met wid her Mind on my chedda They remember me forever The groundwork I put in Make my lifestyle better... and better I like the fuckin street Right in them phantom lights Montana life Two women And my hand is ice But I don't forget where I come from Nigga you so tough Tough until ya heartbeat stop The trey-pound pop Ya arteries shot Ya bleedin and shout Get in the pine box Damn yous a hard muthafucka You so tough Tough until ya punkass hit The four-fifth kick The hypla spit You in deep shit Now yo ass sit You supposed to be hard muthafucka You so tough For that china white I'll lay a nigga momma down We can shoot it out Like Frank White did in Chinatown You know I got that hard white You know I got that tannin brown Automatic trey-pound Leave a nigga maned-down Murda murda homicide Real right niggas ride Gangstas, they never hide Thank God I'm still alive My pockets look like there's cracks on me My waist looks like I got the mac on me These hoes on my dick I got that axe on me You a R.N. Regular nigga that rap homie I'm crack homie I'm dope money I wake up and wipe my ass wid coke money C-back, Maybach My shit two-toned Nigga run up on that Yo ass a tombstone I'm wood like a group home Ghetto like a payphone Jake the snake I'm low in the hood Nigga you so tough Tough until ya heartbeat stop The trey-pound pop Ya arteries shot Ya bleedin and shout Get in the pine box Damn yous a hard muthafucka You so tough Tough until ya punkass hit The four-fifth kick The hypla spit You in deep shit Now yo ass sit You supposed to be hard muthafucka You so tough Yeah I got a knife for a tough nigga Nine for a hard nigga Don't make me empty the chamber Even if I'm locked in a cell block You'll fall into shell shock When I open ya head wid the banger I cause a riot in the yard Make a mess in the mess hall Like I jus blew trial And I ain't got nothin left God, what's todays mathematics? Shit ain't addin up Get knocked wid 10 machine guns Only get 12 months? Ooohh weee, don't talk to me You talk to him, you talkin to them I got the best lawyers money can buy They said they woulda got me ten Or maybe nine I say "how do you explain how homie breathe? " He say "you keep ya mouth shut or you in wid G's" Nigga you so tough Tough until ya heartbeat stop The trey-pound pop Ya arteries shot Ya bleedin and shout Get in the pine box Damn yous a hard muthafucka You so tough Tough until ya punkass hit The four-fifth kick The hypla spit You in deep shit Now yo ass sit You supposed to be hard muthafucka You so tough |
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4:05 |
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from Lloyd Banks - Rotten Apple (2006)
Uh,
Uh, Yeah [Chorus] Ay I'm focused now, they notice now Shorty to ride with me you got to hold this down But you ain't got to worry cause we run this town A nigga run up on me will get his ass gunned down (You know the deal, it's all about a Dollar Bill You know the deal, it's all about a Dollar Bill You know the deal, it's all about a Dollar Bill You know for reals, the only way that I can chill) Uh, niggas won't understand 'til they man fall From a exit wound big as a handball, damn y'all Can a nigga spend a mill for a house on the hill as tall as a Ferris wheel? Niggas better chill, for the Barretta peel Knock off your head and ill, whole bunch of red'll spill Nigga I'm rollin' up, system blowin', hater's glowin' up, frozen up Range Rover truck color Coconut I used to be broke ass fuck, 'til I woke 'em up I'll show you how to stroke a slut, get in her throat and gut Then it's back to postin' up, wheels pokin' out Smoke about enough to have you gaspin' and chokin' out I - do what I wanna when I wanna ball when it's summer Leave out the club, squeeze 'em all in the Hummer Stitching in the seats, interior Peanut Butter Brand new Pelle Pelle, Nine-millimeter under [Chorus] Uh, Banks is back yeah the punchline boy You've got to be a millionaire to touch my toy I figured, I'll let the haters see it one more time I skeet off zero to sixty in three-point-nine Besides, I gotta make the jewelery store on time I look like I bought the jewelery store this time And it's hard to live like a Rap Star on the cover I got three Magnums, the gun, car, and the rubber I got a fur fetish, a three-quarter cut habit Nigga that ain't chinchilla, it's plucked parrot Part rabbit, go find your heart faggot I prey niggas find your foot and toe tag it There ain't never a drought, I got the sour on tour So raw I gotta hotel towel on the door Hoes all around the hotel pilled to the floor They done followed your boss since two-thousand and four [Chorus] From here on out it's manslaughter for the masses And classics courtesy of Mr. Mathers You bastards heard of me I get the cash It's the American way I go to bed with the 'K I got red, blue and white don't even ask about ice I look like a cop car flashin' his lights All he want to do is chit chat and make tapes about him 'Til they lost like Malcolm before the "Nation" got him Out in timbaland tearing the coup, my wrist chunky like Campbells soup Niggas shoot, I done been around the world And I'm right here you won't hurt me I'll put your ass on ice yeah, cold turkey I'm blowin' Purple, the Haze mixed with Hershey I done gave you style, now reimburse me And it ain't no more love you get the "Birdie" I'm a be in the number one spot 'til I'm thirty [Chorus] |
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4:27 |
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from Lloyd Banks - The Hunger For More (2004)
I'm gon' ride, I'm gon' ride, they gon' ride, we all gon' ride,
(yea) I come from the heart of southside (yea) Holdin' it down for my niggas that died (yea) I gotta busy bird on my side (yea) Pop shit and get yo whole mouth wide (yea) Baby had tried to steal off the payroll Ill have niggas scrappin' the skin off the ya face with the same Shit they peal a potato (whoo) I thank the lord for my blessings and I'm glad he gave us the Will power and reflexes of Larry Davis (ohh) You don't wanna see my block formin' (uh huh) That's a 101 doggs and I don't mean the ones with the spots on 'em Were respected highly 'cause you don't need to practice gymnastics to catch a body (oh) Me and moneys like Whitney, next to Bobby (uh huh) If I bring all my niggas I'll need an extra lobby (uh huh) As soon as you ain't around Jake (Jake) You getcha ass whipped for chips Now that's the real definition of pound cake I got the crown snake And you can tell when I'm shoppin' 'cause when the mall stampedin' You'll feel the ground shake I got a car I only drive on Thursdays (ha ha) I'm a stunna', banks blows more cake then birthdays [Chorus] Look at here, ain't nobody 'round here scared (uh uh) I'm headin' for the top and I'm almost there Oh yeah this shiny shit right here Ill work magic and make you niggas disappear Look at here, ain't nobody 'round here scared I'm headin' for the top and I'm almost there Oh yeah this shiny shit right here Ill work magic and make you niggas disappear You know how I gets down This pound hold six rounds I told you I'd be back bitch Talk that shit now You hear that fo fif .45 sound Duck when I spit rounds 'cause this ain't Beverly hills You in the bricks now We ain't got shit down here but dope and guns for sell You get yo head cracked and niggas don't run and tell Its like we sell crack get caught head back to jail We on that fuck the police shit We livin' in hell You betta' guard yo grill homey And stand yo ground These bullets burn They hit who evers standin' around I never learn even after I took a couple shots I just got me some band-aids and bought a couple glocks Had to go on a rampage and hit a couple blocks Once they hear that 12-gauge that's when the trouble stops (boom) If its beef then I'm ready to ride Just come to casheville you can find me on the south side (motherfucka') [Chorus] Now I ain't from Michigan but I'm in the Fab 5 You know, Yayo and 50, Buck and Game, You know my fuckin' name Whether the truck or train My minds stuck on the grind 'cause somewhere down the line, a lot of suckas came Yeah ain't talkin' shit But we can all tell he ass Jags are black his eyes like the are-Kelly mask (ah) You gotta blast me yo (yo) 'cause the Louisville will have yo head lookin' like the top of a Pistachio The young gunner with a raspy flow Got every boyfriend thinkin' they girlfriends a nasty hoe My heart laughin' a small Maybe its 'cause my grandpop dropped right after the ball Banks hops out bulletproof this, bulletproof that, bulletproofs Snorkle when you hot they hawk you I got the hood on my shoulda Chain big as a boulder The 357 tucka Motherfucka' [Chorus] Yeah Motherfucka' I'm here, yeah Lloyd banks G-G-G-G-G G-Unit! Money by any means, nigga |
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4:27 |
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from Lloyd Banks - The Hunger For More (2004)
I'm gon' ride, I'm gon' ride, they gon' ride, we all gon' ride,
(yea) I come from the heart of southside (yea) Holdin' it down for my niggas that died (yea) I gotta busy bird on my side (yea) Pop shit and get yo whole mouth wide (yea) Baby had tried to steal off the payroll Ill have niggas scrappin' the skin off the ya face with the same Shit they peal a potato (whoo) I thank the lord for my blessings and I'm glad he gave us the Will power and reflexes of Larry Davis (ohh) You don't wanna see my block formin' (uh huh) That's a 101 doggs and I don't mean the ones with the spots on 'em Were respected highly 'cause you don't need to practice gymnastics to catch a body (oh) Me and moneys like Whitney, next to Bobby (uh huh) If I bring all my niggas I'll need an extra lobby (uh huh) As soon as you ain't around Jake (Jake) You getcha ass whipped for chips Now that's the real definition of pound cake I got the crown snake And you can tell when I'm shoppin' 'cause when the mall stampedin' You'll feel the ground shake I got a car I only drive on Thursdays (ha ha) I'm a stunna', banks blows more cake then birthdays [Chorus] Look at here, ain't nobody 'round here scared (uh uh) I'm headin' for the top and I'm almost there Oh yeah this shiny shit right here Ill work magic and make you niggas disappear Look at here, ain't nobody 'round here scared I'm headin' for the top and I'm almost there Oh yeah this shiny shit right here Ill work magic and make you niggas disappear You know how I gets down This pound hold six rounds I told you I'd be back bitch Talk that shit now You hear that fo fif .45 sound Duck when I spit rounds 'cause this ain't Beverly hills You in the bricks now We ain't got shit down here but dope and guns for sell You get yo head cracked and niggas don't run and tell Its like we sell crack get caught head back to jail We on that fuck the police shit We livin' in hell You betta' guard yo grill homey And stand yo ground These bullets burn They hit who evers standin' around I never learn even after I took a couple shots I just got me some band-aids and bought a couple glocks Had to go on a rampage and hit a couple blocks Once they hear that 12-gauge that's when the trouble stops (boom) If its beef then I'm ready to ride Just come to casheville you can find me on the south side (motherfucka') [Chorus] Now I ain't from Michigan but I'm in the Fab 5 You know, Yayo and 50, Buck and Game, You know my fuckin' name Whether the truck or train My minds stuck on the grind 'cause somewhere down the line, a lot of suckas came Yeah ain't talkin' shit But we can all tell he ass Jags are black his eyes like the are-Kelly mask (ah) You gotta blast me yo (yo) 'cause the Louisville will have yo head lookin' like the top of a Pistachio The young gunner with a raspy flow Got every boyfriend thinkin' they girlfriends a nasty hoe My heart laughin' a small Maybe its 'cause my grandpop dropped right after the ball Banks hops out bulletproof this, bulletproof that, bulletproofs Snorkle when you hot they hawk you I got the hood on my shoulda Chain big as a boulder The 357 tucka Motherfucka' [Chorus] Yeah Motherfucka' I'm here, yeah Lloyd banks G-G-G-G-G G-Unit! Money by any means, nigga |
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4:40 |
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from Mya - Moodring (2003)
Mmm mmm
Mmm mmm Mmm mmm Mmm mmm Yesterday was not a good day I went to the Doctor to hear the news He had the nerve to call me crazy, daranged A victim of child abuse Said somethin' was wrong with my head Told me someone was messin' wit my mind Said you gotta get out the situation girl It's only a matter of time And I knew he was right One day I'm gonna wake up And find the strength to leave your ass behind Maybe if your paper wasn't stacked Or of the sex was wack Or maybe if you was fat But damn Why you gotta look so good Damn you make it so hard to leave you Why you gotta look so good I don't want nobody else to have you So why you gotta look so good (So good) Cause I know you aint' never gon treat me right Why you gotta look so good And I can't get no sleep at night No, no Mmm mmm Mmm mmm Mmm mmm you look so good Mmm mmm Why you look so good The flyest thing that I ever seen (Ever seen) Lookin' like the cover to a magazine (To a magazine) Remember the day that I met you (That I met you) I knew right away I had to mess witchu you (I had to get wit you) I had to get with you All you do is sit and ruin your mouth (Run your mouth) So sick and tied I wanna put you out See I fuss and fight you almost everynight (Night) I keep packing my shit But damn them abs is tight One day I'm gonna wake up And find the strength to leave your ass behind Boy I wish you wasn't quite so big And damn them sexy lips Boy you know that shoulda shit Why you gotta look so good (Why you gotta look so good) You make it so hard to leave you Why you gotta look so good (Why you gotta look so good) Don't want nobody else to have you So why you gotta look so good (Why you gotta look so good) I know you aint' never gon treat me right Why you gotta look so good And I can't get no sleep at night No, no Why you gotta look so good No, why Why you gotta look so damn good Why you gotta look so good Oh, ya makin' me sick I can never say no to them lucious lips Why you gotta look so good You got a million chicks And I don't know why I put up with ya shit Why you gotta look so good Why ya gotta look so good It's so hard to leave you babe We both know If you woulda put on some extra pounds I would left a long time ago But ya bank account is jumpin' And ya neck got all kinda of glow You know that every time you end up cryin I fold And can't seem to make up a good enough reason to hit the road Some reason I'm movin' backwards When I try to stamp out For every pair of pants I pack You take a pair of pants out It's a shame how ya female anatomy Kepps on grabbin' me Havin' me spendin' endless Endless time with Toya and Natalie I admit Your body is one of the things that had to be Havin' fallin' victim And all of my niggas mad at me I was taught In every relationship there's a casualty So I suggest you stop naggin' me Cause I will not Keep sittin' back puttin' up witcha shhh And I will not, nope Go back on my word as soon as you strip And I will not, nope Contradict myself Oh look what happend I forgot Make sure you come back up in the same spot (Just can't say goodbye) Why you gotta look so good No, no Why you gotta look so good I had to get witchu Why you gotta look so good Why you gotta look so good Why you gotta look so good Why you gotta look so good |
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| from The Game - Charge It To The Game/ The Mixtape (2005) | |||||
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3:40 |
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from Lloyd Banks - The Hunger For More (2004)
Yea!
[Chorus] These niggas wanna see me 'cause of the way I shine But it ain't that easy To get mine You get ya ass laid down Down, The paint is peelin' Now, When the chips are down Down, You gotta lose all feelin Now, Your head goes round n' round Funny how the world revolves around my click 'cause just a year ago a nigga ain't have shit (damn) Me and my right hand share the same outfit Which fueled the fire that I air the game out with (whoo) It's amazing the way that boy came out quick For that platinum niggas'll blows ya brains out, shit (bap) I'm the new nigga the others can't stand The rubber band man be god damned if I can (oh) Let another nigga fill my spot If a niggas steal from me it's the steel I pop I'm on my grind so if you thought I chill, I'm not Gon' stop lettin' that steering peel on the block, why not? [Chorus: x2] Banks they think I'm yayos replacement, nah I borrowed his gunits to walk through the matrix I'm signed to the Doctor I ain't got no patience So he put me with 50 Cent now I got a face lift Magazines wanna know where they fuck L.A. been It almost died in the same car Suge got grazed in 2001 I was playin' my PlayStation I heard 9 shots , I'm face down with my heart pacing All I could think about as hidin' my gun and my drugs in the basement It was either that or the state pen I woke up out of that coma Police waitin' for a statement, (heart monitor beeps to flat line) [Chorus] Pass the weed and let a nigga get into a zone Papa left me all alone in the world to roam But now I'm grown, millionaires on my cell phone A year past now, caw dead and L gone And I'm sick, bought chopper with a long click So think about that before you make your songs dick (dick) Or lose a limb, please don't get me confused with him (uh uh) Cause I'm down to go a whole round, lose or win If I should die, ride a G through the hood with pride (ride) Every strip, block, and projects is on my side I'm ghetto calm by the 100 grand on my arms (arms) Sick watching of a 100 grand on my charm (whoo), broke nigga [Chorus: x2] |
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3:40 |
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from Lloyd Banks - The Hunger For More (2004)
Yea!
[Chorus] These niggas wanna see me 'cause of the way I shine But it ain't that easy To get mine You get ya ass laid down Down, The paint is peelin' Now, When the chips are down Down, You gotta lose all feelin Now, Your head goes round n' round Funny how the world revolves around my click 'cause just a year ago a nigga ain't have shit (damn) Me and my right hand share the same outfit Which fueled the fire that I air the game out with (whoo) It's amazing the way that boy came out quick For that platinum niggas'll blows ya brains out, shit (bap) I'm the new nigga the others can't stand The rubber band man be god damned if I can (oh) Let another nigga fill my spot If a niggas steal from me it's the steel I pop I'm on my grind so if you thought I chill, I'm not Gon' stop lettin' that steering peel on the block, why not? [Chorus: x2] Banks they think I'm yayos replacement, nah I borrowed his gunits to walk through the matrix I'm signed to the Doctor I ain't got no patience So he put me with 50 Cent now I got a face lift Magazines wanna know where they fuck L.A. been It almost died in the same car Suge got grazed in 2001 I was playin' my PlayStation I heard 9 shots , I'm face down with my heart pacing All I could think about as hidin' my gun and my drugs in the basement It was either that or the state pen I woke up out of that coma Police waitin' for a statement, (heart monitor beeps to flat line) [Chorus] Pass the weed and let a nigga get into a zone Papa left me all alone in the world to roam But now I'm grown, millionaires on my cell phone A year past now, caw dead and L gone And I'm sick, bought chopper with a long click So think about that before you make your songs dick (dick) Or lose a limb, please don't get me confused with him (uh uh) Cause I'm down to go a whole round, lose or win If I should die, ride a G through the hood with pride (ride) Every strip, block, and projects is on my side I'm ghetto calm by the 100 grand on my arms (arms) Sick watching of a 100 grand on my charm (whoo), broke nigga [Chorus: x2] |
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4:01 |
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from Dj Envy - The Desert Storm Mixtape Dj Envy Blok Party Vol.1 (2003)
Artist: DJ Envy f/ G-Unit (50 Cent, Lloyd Banks) Album: Blok Party Vol. 1 Song: What Goes Around [50 Cent] G-Unit haha [Lloyd Banks] I dont know where you from but out here we ride So if you scared of conflict don't come outside Get your hands on a gun Cause ain't no one gonna repspect you as a man if you run, dial 9-1-1 I'm hear talkin' to the street now That's only gonna lead to bulletwounds and beatdown's, retreat clown You still strugglin down to your last rock G-Unit is gorillas and Blackchild's the mascot You thought you wouldn't hear my voice I'm in the hood cause I'm hood You in the hood cause you ain't got no choice Your top seller gettin' sticked for his shine Either I'm blind, or Ashanti's sideburns is thicker than mine I'm youngest in charge with my dick in a dime Grippin' the nine, sippin' that lime Becardi in a party, you sorry I'm blowin' wet green right out the safari That'll put you in a left lean higher than a marley And as far as Charlie, a studio hour is a waste She look like she took a bag of flour in the face You want street credibility instead of I'ma sting you C'mon Ja you put a fuckin crackhead on your single [Chorus: 50 Cent] What goes up must come down, what goes around comes back around I suggest you run when you see the pound Or get laid the fuck out on the ground What goes up must come down, what goes around comes back around I suggest you run when you see the pound Or get laid the fuck out on the ground [Lloyd Banks] My cousin bringin' back them blueberry bags, I've been waiting all day On them Shelltops that got Jam Master Jay, on 'em I got a jeanius and kneehighs that swallows me whole Tongue's longer than the ones on your Fila's She's buys anything I desire, prolly cause I'm on fire The 2003 McGwire, until I retire My neighborhood breed ballers that slam dunk Cross overed to crack now they can't even jump I leave with any panties I want, the industries new face I'm in a bitch mouth every morning like toothpaste Place your bet, Envy pull out a few crates I got enough 16's to battle 2 states I'm in a spaceship, neck full of grey shit Bigetes in the braclet, expect nothing basic Respect and embrace it, your sketch in the basement I'll have them try to find where the rest of your face is [Chorus] [Lloyd Banks] The hoes know I'm lazy as hell, that's why I get the bitch to twist Dogg, I stay around trees like Christmas gifts Yea, you laughing and dancing 'til they stick you And have you holdin' your chest like I'm singing the National Anthem Have your worried bout the reprecussions after the tantrum I'll be alone in a mansion, and it's snowing in the Hamptons Regardless of what these fools say, I'ma be around longer than 'Cool J Armed with a new K So dumb in a new way, If I don't fuck Monday, I'm gone hit it Tuesday My charm get it usually You put a lot of years into rap, these lil' starvin' chumps Start your career from the back of a milk carton Your gased up from whatever he must of told ya But everything in Army fatigues ain't a soldier In my upbring we wore the same socks And buckets in the living room to catch the rain drops [Chorus] [50 Cent] Dial 9-1-1, Yeah!, young Lloyd Banks, GGgg, GGgg, GGgg, G-Unittttt, haha I dare you to say something, haha, I dare you to say something back nigga... |
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3:36 |
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| from Styles P - Master Of Ceremonies (2011) | |||||
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3:38 |
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from Lloyd Banks - The Hunger For More (2004)
[Intro: Eminem]
Woo!!! Yeah!!! Remix!!! (50 Cent: Ha Ha!!!) Lloyd Banks!!! (Lloyd Banks: Uh Huh!!!) Ha Ha!!! [Verse 1: Eminem] It's like a throne that he don't even own He won't sit down give him a crown he just throws it around It's like a joke he's like a king but he don't do a thing He don't want the diamonds, want the gold or want the jewelry He don't want the room and he don't want the loot he's in it for the sport Runnin circles 'round his competition on the court He appreciates your support but he ain't beggin for it And you can love and you can hate it but you can't ignore it, you can't be that ignorant But you can try to sell him short But you can't fuck with his last joint or the one before it And he was born to raise hell like them country boys And If I'm frontin then you better come confront me for it [Chorus: Nate Dogg] This is the story of a warrior and now you know it True warriors go ahead and make some noise It ain't healthy to be makin niggaz paranoid Hit your corner with my weapon I don't need my boys I'm doin a hundred twenty in the fast lane Kick back just relax let me do my thang Don't give a fuck about you suckers gotta maintain Money, power and respect in this rap game [Verse 2: Lloyd Banks] He's straight outta a neighborhood where niggaz hate To see you blow and eat your dinner off a bigger plate There stomachs ache while he's loungin in the big estate And he hops in a hundred thousand where the nigga stay, houses with a bigger gate Houndin him's a big mistake, he won't surrender he'll rather give up a rib to break Cause he remembers when they wouldn't lend a helpin hand Till he was sittin on green like a Celtics fan Created a buzz to where you gotta mention his name When you discussin the illest playa that's in the game And he's ridin with Em, 50 Cent, Doc and 'em G-Unit Records ain't a motherfucker stoppin them [Chorus: Nate Dogg] This is the story of a warrior and now you know it True warriors go ahead and make some noise It ain't healthy to be makin niggaz paranoid Hit your corner with my weapon I don't need my boys I'm doin a hundred twenty in the fast lane Kick back just relax let me do my thang Don't give a fuck about you suckers gotta maintain Money, power and respect in this rap game [Verse 3: 50 Cent] He's no magician man the kid does something out of nothin So that nigga's from his hood act like he owes him somethin They talk crazy till they send niggaz to where to buck him Ask him if it's a problem and he'll say nah it's nothin He was gonna help 'em out but since they funny fuck 'em He don't care how they feel they can hate him or love him He held his own on his own the kid is really thuggin He's rich now he ain't change so niggaz think he buggin He bulletproof everything cause niggaz try and buck him Keeps two pistols I'll show you where he tuck 'em Niggaz say they 'gon get at him but they can't touch him Try to catch you slippin then creepin he start bussin [Chorus: Nate Dogg] This is the story of a warrior and now you know it True warriors go ahead and make some noise It ain't healthy to be makin niggaz paranoid Hit your corner with my weapon I don't need my boys I'm doin a hundred twenty in the fast lane Kick back just relax let me do my thang Don't give a fuck about you suckers gotta maintain Money, power and respect in this rap game [Outro: Nate Dogg] I can give you niggaz somethin you can talk about I can turn your smile upside down You ain't no G you a fuckin clown I can take your girl and tu-turn her out Don't hold it in let it all out I can give you fuckers somethin to be mad about Invite her in send her back out With my DNA all in her mouth< |
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3:38 |
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from Lloyd Banks - The Hunger For More (2004)
[Intro: Eminem] Woo!!! Yeah!!! Remix!!! (50 Cent: Ha Ha!!!) Lloyd Banks!!! (Lloyd Banks: Uh Huh!!!) Ha Ha!!! [Verse 1: Eminem] It's like a throne that he don't even own He won't sit down give him a crown he just throws it around It's like a joke he's like a king but he don't do a thing He don't want the diamonds, want the gold or want the jewelry He don't want the room and he don't want the loot he's in it for the sport Runnin circles 'round his competition on the court He appreciates your support but he ain't beggin for it And you can love and you can hate it but you can't ignore it, you can't be that ignorant But you can try to sell him short But you can't fuck with his last joint or the one before it And he was born to raise hell like them country boys And If I'm frontin then you better come confront me for it [Chorus: Nate Dogg] This is the story of a warrior and now you know it True warriors go ahead and make some noise It ain't healthy to be makin niggaz paranoid Hit your corner with my weapon I don't need my boys I'm doin a hundred twenty in the fast lane Kick back just relax let me do my thang Don't give a fuck about you suckers gotta maintain Money, power and respect in this rap game [Verse 2: Lloyd Banks] He's straight outta a neighborhood where niggaz hate To see you blow and eat your dinner off a bigger plate There stomachs ache while he's loungin in the big estate And he hops in a hundred thousand where the nigga stay, houses with a bigger gate Houndin him's a big mistake, he won't surrender he'll rather give up a rib to break Cause he remembers when they wouldn't lend a helpin hand Till he was sittin on green like a Celtics fan Created a buzz to where you gotta mention his name When you discussin the illest playa that's in the game And he's ridin with Em, 50 Cent, Doc and 'em G-Unit Records ain't a motherfucker stoppin them [Chorus: Nate Dogg] This is the story of a warrior and now you know it True warriors go ahead and make some noise It ain't healthy to be makin niggaz paranoid Hit your corner with my weapon I don't need my boys I'm doin a hundred twenty in the fast lane Kick back just relax let me do my thang Don't give a fuck about you suckers gotta maintain Money, power and respect in this rap game [Verse 3: 50 Cent] He's no magician man the kid does something out of nothin So that nigga's from his hood act like he owes him somethin They talk crazy till they send niggaz to where to buck him Ask him if it's a problem and he'll say nah it's nothin He was gonna help 'em out but since they funny fuck 'em He don't care how they feel they can hate him or love him He held his own on his own the kid is really thuggin He's rich now he ain't change so niggaz think he buggin He bulletproof everything cause niggaz try and buck him Keeps two pistols I'll show you where he tuck 'em Niggaz say they 'gon get at him but they can't touch him Try to catch you slippin then creepin he start bussin [Chorus: Nate Dogg] This is the story of a warrior and now you know it True warriors go ahead and make some noise It ain't healthy to be makin niggaz paranoid Hit your corner with my weapon I don't need my boys I'm doin a hundred twenty in the fast lane Kick back just relax let me do my thang Don't give a fuck about you suckers gotta maintain Money, power and respect in this rap game [Outro: Nate Dogg] I can give you niggaz somethin you can talk about I can turn your smile upside down You ain't no G you a fuckin clown I can take your girl and tu-turn her out Don't hold it in let it all out I can give you fuckers somethin to be mad about Invite her in send her back out With my DNA all in her mouth< |
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from Lloyd Banks - The Hunger For More (2004)
<P>(Warriors! Come out to Pla-a-a-y!) </P><P>I'm a warrior!
Aw man I never run never snitch I'm a grown man dog I ain't no bitch (A warrior!) Don't change cause he's rich Before I shit on my family I lie in a ditch Don't fold under pressure You got a shell waitin in the hole if they test ya (A warrior!) I'll sacrifice it all if he has ta React and think about it after </P><P>Uh, You heard right motherfucker My grandmama' daughter ain't raised no sucker Heart full of pride and a head full of anger Attitude of a winner infared for the danger Even the paranoya of a female'll change ya Waking up every morning laying next to a stranger I'm on the move, smooth, with one eye out for the snakes Who can't stand hearin your name all throughout the states Tune into BET and watchin your video Pretending to be your friends but the smart ones really no, so If that's your man warn him 'Cause there's enough bullets in here to hit every NBA patch on him Nigga ride 'til I die the song I sing You ain't ready for the war I bring You ain't gonna do a goddamn thing And I ain't ever scared I'm a warrior! </P><P>Man I never run never snitch I'm a grown man dog I ain't no bitch (A warrior!) Don't change cause he's rich Before I shit on my family I lie in a ditch (A warrior!) Don't fold under pressure You got a shell waitin in the hole if they test ya (A warrior!) I'll sacrifice it all if he has ta React and think about it after I'm a warrior! </P><P>Goddamn hoe here I go again The Double L O Y D Here put on an I.V Tryin ta try me The new age I lead The black C.I.G Resides beside me As smooth as an Isley Sometimes I surprise me Can't even ID As low as my eyes be I roll with the gangstas don't get fly with your mouth The wrong punchline'll have niggaz inside of your house Nigga I'm doing good I made it out of the hood I own Beverly Hills no more bottles or wood That's a zipper that's sticky California should whip me I done made it this far can't be mad if they hit me (shhiit) Nigga ride 'til I die the song I sing You ain't ready for the war I bring You ain't gonna do a goddamn thing And I ain't ever scared I'm a warrior! Man I never run never snitch I'm a grown man dog I ain't no bitch (A warrior!) Don't change cause he's rich Before I shit on my family I lie in a ditch (A warrior!) Don't fold under pressure You got a shell waitin in the hole if they test ya (A warrior!) I'll sacrifice it all if he has ta React and think about it after I'm a warrior! </P><P> </P> |
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from Lloyd Banks - The Hunger For More (2004)
(Warriors! Come out to Pla-a-a-y!) I'm a warrior! Aw man I never run never snitch I'm a grown man dog I ain't no bitch (A warrior!) Don't change cause he's rich Before I shit on my family I lie in a ditch Don't fold under pressure You got a shell waitin in the hole if they test ya (A warrior!) I'll sacrifice it all if he has ta React and think about it after Uh, You heard right motherfucker My grandmama' daughter ain't raised no sucker Heart full of pride and a head full of anger Attitude of a winner infared for the danger Even the paranoya of a female'll change ya Waking up every morning laying next to a stranger I'm on the move, smooth, with one eye out for the snakes Who can't stand hearin your name all throughout the states Tune into BET and watchin your video Pretending to be your friends but the smart ones really no, so If that's your man warn him 'Cause there's enough bullets in here to hit every NBA patch on him Nigga ride 'til I die the song I sing You ain't ready for the war I bring You ain't gonna do a goddamn thing And I ain't ever scared I'm a warrior! Man I never run never snitch I'm a grown man dog I ain't no bitch (A warrior!) Don't change cause he's rich Before I shit on my family I lie in a ditch (A warrior!) Don't fold under pressure You got a shell waitin in the hole if they test ya (A warrior!) I'll sacrifice it all if he has ta React and think about it after I'm a warrior! Goddamn hoe here I go again The Double L O Y D Here put on an I.V Tryin ta try me The new age I lead The black C.I.G Resides beside me As smooth as an Isley Sometimes I surprise me Can't even ID As low as my eyes be I roll with the gangstas don't get fly with your mouth The wrong punchline'll have niggaz inside of your house Nigga I'm doing good I made it out of the hood I own Beverly Hills no more bottles or wood That's a zipper that's sticky California should whip me I done made it this far can't be mad if they hit me (shhiit) Nigga ride 'til I die the song I sing You ain't ready for the war I bring You ain't gonna do a goddamn thing And I ain't ever scared I'm a warrior! Man I never run never snitch I'm a grown man dog I ain't no bitch (A warrior!) Don't change cause he's rich Before I shit on my family I lie in a ditch (A warrior!) Don't fold under pressure You got a shell waitin in the hole if they test ya (A warrior!) I'll sacrifice it all if he has ta React and think about it after I'm a warrior! |
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from Lloyd Banks - On Fire (2004)
<P>(Warriors! Come out to Pla-a-a-y!) </P><P>I'm a warrior!
Aw man I never run never snitch I'm a grown man dog I ain't no bitch (A warrior!) Don't change cause he's rich Before I shit on my family I lie in a ditch Don't fold under pressure You got a shell waitin in the hole if they test ya (A warrior!) I'll sacrifice it all if he has ta React and think about it after </P><P>Uh, You heard right motherfucker My grandmama' daughter ain't raised no sucker Heart full of pride and a head full of anger Attitude of a winner infared for the danger Even the paranoya of a female'll change ya Waking up every morning laying next to a stranger I'm on the move, smooth, with one eye out for the snakes Who can't stand hearin your name all throughout the states Tune into BET and watchin your video Pretending to be your friends but the smart ones really no, so If that's your man warn him 'Cause there's enough bullets in here to hit every NBA patch on him Nigga ride 'til I die the song I sing You ain't ready for the war I bring You ain't gonna do a goddamn thing And I ain't ever scared I'm a warrior! </P><P>Man I never run never snitch I'm a grown man dog I ain't no bitch (A warrior!) Don't change cause he's rich Before I shit on my family I lie in a ditch (A warrior!) Don't fold under pressure You got a shell waitin in the hole if they test ya (A warrior!) I'll sacrifice it all if he has ta React and think about it after I'm a warrior! </P><P>Goddamn hoe here I go again The Double L O Y D Here put on an I.V Tryin ta try me The new age I lead The black C.I.G Resides beside me As smooth as an Isley Sometimes I surprise me Can't even ID As low as my eyes be I roll with the gangstas don't get fly with your mouth The wrong punchline'll have niggaz inside of your house Nigga I'm doing good I made it out of the hood I own Beverly Hills no more bottles or wood That's a zipper that's sticky California should whip me I done made it this far can't be mad if they hit me (shhiit) Nigga ride 'til I die the song I sing You ain't ready for the war I bring You ain't gonna do a goddamn thing And I ain't ever scared I'm a warrior! Man I never run never snitch I'm a grown man dog I ain't no bitch (A warrior!) Don't change cause he's rich Before I shit on my family I lie in a ditch (A warrior!) Don't fold under pressure You got a shell waitin in the hole if they test ya (A warrior!) I'll sacrifice it all if he has ta React and think about it after I'm a warrior! </P><P> </P> |
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from G-Unit - Beg For Mercy (2003)
[Chorus]
I wanna get to know you I really wanna fuck you, baby I'm lost in your lovin' I'm simply going to drive you , crazy I wanna be your lover I wanna get to know you, baby I'm lost in your lovin' I'm simply going to drive you , crazy [Young Buc] Im lovin' how you look in my eyes Swingin' them hips when you pass I'm visualizing my name tatooed on that ass baby Jump on this Harley Lets go smoke some of that Bob Marley Sip some Bacardi Then go pull up at the afterparty I think we make a perfect couple But you think I'm trouble Maybe thats the reason you gave me the wrong number She got me feeling like "maybe she the wrong woman" Think im'a be chasin' the chicken head you own somethin' Your toes painted half fixed all the time And your Gucci boots the same color as mine If you read between the lines you can see that I want you I betcha I have you doin' what you said that you won't do Making decisions shorty good things don't last long Your girlfriend keep showin' me that thong Before I head home Im'a stop at your house and blow the horn If you come outside you know it's on [Chorus] [Lloyd Banks] Bitches be frustrated with the baller Wonder why I call her Maybe because I'm busy and she needs someone to spall her Hiccups annoy ya from time to time I gotta ignore her In order to let her know we'll be friends and nothing more She loves it when I'm in town Hate it when I'm not around I get her and wear down Next door neighboors hear the sound Pictures hittin' the ground Just enough to hold us down I'm stickin' n' moving cruising after the third round Just lay back baby and let me drive you crazy I can make a 40 year old feel like a young lady I admit I fell in love with her frame And to make her feel special I let her call me by my government name Her panties wet over fame Fall in love with my chain I wonder if I wasn't an entertainer would she remain Surrounding me hounding me trying to be my only I'm not your boyfriend I'm your homie. [Chorus] [50 Cent] (Yeah) What would fuck me up more Watching her lick her lips Or watching her walk she hypnotize me with her hips (yeah) man I sweet talk her if she like Cause all she really want is a nigga to treat her right right Look I'm legit now used to break laws Now you can reap the benefits of world tours Big house big Benz girl it yours Mink coats Italian shoes stones with no flaws You ain't go to look like a model for me to adore you All you gotta do is love me and be loyal Don't indulge in my past fuck what happened before you Cause their be some honies gonna hate you that never saw you Come here let my touch on you I let you touch on me Put my tounge on you you put your tounge on me Let me ride on you and you can ride on We can do it all the night We can have a balla night [Chorus] I wanna get to know you I really wanna fuck you, baby I'm lost in your lovin' I'm simply going to drive you , crazy I wanna be your lover I wanna get to know you, baby I'm lost in your lovin' I'm simply going to drive you , crazy I wanna be your lover I really need to stand you, baby I wannt be your lover I really need to stand you, baby, baby, baby, baby. |
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from G-Unit - Wanna Get To Know You [single] (2004)
(Intro/Chorus: Joe)
I wanna get to know ya I really wanna thug you, baby One dose of your lovin I know it gon' drive me, crazy I wanna be your lover I wanna get to know you, baby One dose of my lovin I know it gon' drive you, crazy (Verse One: Young Buck) I'm lovin how you look in my eyes, swangin them hips when you pass I'm visualizin my name tattooed on that ass baby Jump on this Harley, let's go smoke some of that Bob Marley Sip some Bacardi then go pull up at the after party I think we make a perfect couple, but you think I'm trouble Maybe that's the reason you gave me the wrong number (what?) She got me feelin like, maybe she the wrong woman Think I'ma be chasin the chickenhead, you're on somethin Your toes painted, hair fixed all the time And your Gucci boots the same color as mine If you read between the lines you can see that I want you I betcha I'll have you doin what you said that you won't do Make a decision shorty, good thangs don't last long Your girlfriend keeps showin me that thong Before I head home I'ma stop at your house and blow the horn If you come outside you know it's on, holla at your boy (Chorus) (Verse Two: Lloyd Banks) Now bitches be frustrated with a baller, wonder why I don't call her Maybe because I'm busy and she need someone to spoil her It gets annoying, from time to time I gotta ignore her In order to let her know that we friends and nuttin more She loves it when I'm in town, hate it when I'm not around I get her and wear her down, next door neighbors hear the sound Pictures hittin the ground, just enough to hold us down I'm stickin and movin, cruisin after the third round Just lay back baby and let me drive you crazy I can make a forty-year old feel like a young lady I admit I fell in love with her friend And to make her feel special I let her call my by my government name Her panties wet over fame, fell in love with my chain I wonder if I wasn't an entertainer, would she remain? Surroundin me, houndin me, tryin to be my ON-LY I'm not your boyfriend, I'm your HO-MEY (Chorus) (Verse Thre: 50 Cent) Yeah Don't know what fuck me up more, watchin her lick her lips Or watchin her walk, she hypnotized me with her hips man I sweet talk her if she like Cause all she really want is a nigga to treat her right, right? Look, I'm legit now, I used to break laws Now you can reap the benefits of world tours Big house, big Benz, girl it's yours Mink coats, Italian shoes, stones with no flaws You ain't got ta look like a model for me to adore you All you gotta do is love me and be loyal Don't indulge in my past, fuck what happened before you Cause to me some bunny's gon' hate you that never saw you C'mere, let me touch on you, I let you touch on me Put my tongue on you, you put your tongue on me Let me ride on you and you can ride on We can do it all the night, we can have a baller night (Chorus) - repeat 2X w/ variations |
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from Lloyd Banks - The Hunger For More (2004)
Nobody there knew they would die before they woke They probably started off a beautiful day with weed smoke Out of last night's pussy, the murder that she wrote Cold sweatin from a nightmare, mind on a C-note You leave the door with intentions of fulfillin your visions Constantly sidetracked, thinkin bout who's your man or who isn't Maybe it's necessary - maybe you're overreactin Maybe your actual downfall is that ho that you're clappin Maybe your pillow conversations been controllin the actions Maybe your homey overheard and never told you what happened You look behind you when you turn the corner, cause death is promised You done seen some niggaz go before ya, the threats are honest And with that lingerin in the back of your head You know it's possible that you won't make it back in your bed The confusion and jealousy and dishonor'll spin ya But then none come worse than when that gunpowder's in ya If you my nigga, you my nigga til the end Fuck a bill, fuck a bitch, fuck a Benz Let's toast til we die Roll up the weed and blow the smoke in the sky - la da da If you my nigga, you my nigga til we go One of the few I would take a bullet fo' Let's toast til we die Roll up the weed and blow the smoke in the sky - la da da The smell of marijuana wreaks often I raise hell 'fore I speak softly, quotin the Knicks Put at least a hungred grand on one hand, bought him a 6 Acknowledged the weaknesses that his man taught him to fix We ain't never left the hood, so we camcorded the trips I done watched the nigga go from BET to the Bricks, shit The slanted eyes what the chocolate thai gave me I'm a bachelor, nigga you ain't knockin my lady A lot of these niggaz been jockin mine lately And I hope you catch the long and that rock-a-bye baby We two brothers, pitched outta different mommas Close enough to conflict and put the shit behind us Your baby boy meet the daytime Oldest watchin and these niggaz tryin to get mine Remember back then the lines in your flat top Hopin your moms ain't the momma on crack rock Keep my, mind on my money, and my head to the sky I never really smell much, if you was here you'd know why There's frustration and fire if you look in my eye The media fuckin me up, right in my high Niggaz hated on us 'fore the game took us inside Then they opened they arms wide, took the whoopin and cried I got a platinum plaque hangin on the wall of my crib And handsome's one of the things they been callin the kid They watch you close when you coppin all the VS stones If you ain't tryin to get it poppin, leave the BS home I got a saditty broad that gives the best dome And I'm blowin on some of the finest weed that's grown, homes You won't know when they gon' dump a slug But you can tell I'm gettin money from the line out in front the club My whole click caked up, you can't compare the dough And if it's only one bitch, then we gon' share the ho (If you my nigga you my nigga til the end.. my friend) la da da (If you my nigga you my nigga til we go.. my niggarole) .. la da da |
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5:10 |
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from Lloyd Banks - The Hunger For More (2004)
Nobody there knew they would die before they woke They probably started off a beautiful day with weed smoke Out of last night's pussy, the murder that she wrote Cold sweatin from a nightmare, mind on a C-note You leave the door with intentions of fulfillin your visions Constantly sidetracked, thinkin bout who's your man or who isn't Maybe it's necessary - maybe you're overreactin Maybe your actual downfall is that ho that you're clappin Maybe your pillow conversations been controllin the actions Maybe your homey overheard and never told you what happened You look behind you when you turn the corner, cause death is promised You done seen some niggaz go before ya, the threats are honest And with that lingerin in the back of your head You know it's possible that you won't make it back in your bed The confusion and jealousy and dishonor'll spin ya But then none come worse than when that gunpowder's in ya If you my nigga, you my nigga til the end Fuck a bill, fuck a bitch, fuck a Benz Let's toast til we die Roll up the weed and blow the smoke in the sky - la da da If you my nigga, you my nigga til we go One of the few I would take a bullet fo' Let's toast til we die Roll up the weed and blow the smoke in the sky - la da da The smell of marijuana wreaks often I raise hell 'fore I speak softly, quotin the Knicks Put at least a hungred grand on one hand, bought him a 6 Acknowledged the weaknesses that his man taught him to fix We ain't never left the hood, so we camcorded the trips I done watched the nigga go from BET to the Bricks, shit The slanted eyes what the chocolate thai gave me I'm a bachelor, nigga you ain't knockin my lady A lot of these niggaz been jockin mine lately And I hope you catch the long and that rock-a-bye baby We two brothers, pitched outta different mommas Close enough to conflict and put the shit behind us Your baby boy meet the daytime Oldest watchin and these niggaz tryin to get mine Remember back then the lines in your flat top Hopin your moms ain't the momma on crack rock Keep my, mind on my money, and my head to the sky I never really smell much, if you was here you'd know why There's frustration and fire if you look in my eye The media fuckin me up, right in my high Niggaz hated on us 'fore the game took us inside Then they opened they arms wide, took the whoopin and cried I got a platinum plaque hangin on the wall of my crib And handsome's one of the things they been callin the kid They watch you close when you coppin all the VS stones If you ain't tryin to get it poppin, leave the BS home I got a saditty broad that gives the best dome And I'm blowin on some of the finest weed that's grown, homes You won't know when they gon' dump a slug But you can tell I'm gettin money from the line out in front the club My whole click caked up, you can't compare the dough And if it's only one bitch, then we gon' share the ho (If you my nigga you my nigga til the end.. my friend) la da da (If you my nigga you my nigga til we go.. my niggarole) .. la da da |
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| from Lloyd Banks - Mo`Money In The Bank (2008) | |||||
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| from Lloyd Banks - Mo`Money In The Bank (2008) | |||||
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1:57 |
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| from Dj Greg Street, Dj Kay Slay - The Champions : North Meets South (2006) | |||||
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from Lloyd Banks - Mo`Money In The Bank (2008)
Nah Nah, I dont do all that talking man
its one way or the either you comin or you gonna watch another bitch leave wit me the way this shit go, ima f**kin rap star (Verse) Fresh off of the plane i jets off in the Range First class seat but this west coast aint the same The rap game will put stress, fortune, and fame A slow drive-by when they aired out Kane S55 all cleared out chain They body me, you body them, support there out prayin My only wish is to find ya catcher Lay ya ass on a stretcher, betcha, getcha, ass out the hood All i got is rap for that, i spazz out for good Thats my income, it keeps me in Paz and Hollywood Im hardly home, when i leave the club the party gone And im pissy off patrone, tryna get ma home My name Banks baby, im top rank lady I gotta go, grab ya coat, bitch you aint crazy I speed off, gainin and rushin, and bend her over somethin And im pumpin, devyin till the macs and im frontin All of a sudden she down on the humble for a feel And im driftin in and out of lane, fumblin the wheel A couple of miles later i be cummin on her grill Then its back to the hotel and chill (Chorus) Ma i give you the rush Damn ma, ya lil outfit got my furry head high And i need ya to understand I Aint really got alot of time, bitch out ya mind its me Damn blood, dont you wanna get up out them handcuffs I aint gonna love you like ya man does I aint got alot of time, bitch out ya mind |
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from Lloyd Banks - Mo`Money In The Bank (2008)
(feat. 50 Cent)
[Lloyd Banks] I need the cake nigga G-Unit dont play We rap but we strapped Buck got the shotgun 50 got the mack Spida got the streeper And u bound to hear it clap U wont have another birthday CAKE afta that Cause Yayo got a temper and he dont know how to act Adn I been gone for the winter But now a nigga back To get the money the MONEY the MONEY the MONEY the CAKE And you muthafuckas lookin like steak Food on the plate for the wolves Follow wolves Dont get moved by the tools Battle wounds on ya shoes wait Control ya hate U aint ridin in dem 6s (WHY?) cause u spendin all ya CAKE on dem bitches I need the bread lil niggas need christmas Banks dont rap wit a back pack Im in it for the MONEY the MONEY the MONEY the MONEY the CAKE [50 Cent] You heard Banks said so i know i got the mag I pull up pull out spray hollows at your dad I dont give a fuck Its goin down like that I done been through every hood Dead niggas gone rap In the heart of a victim murda is monumental I dont complicate shit, yea i keep it simple My bullet wounds will tell u a story bout wut i been through Southside trama drama wit gallamas I conversate wit killas its usually about life Politic wit lawness its usually about white Im da poster child of violence Im the boy on the poster When the shots start to rang out im the boy wit the toaster Yeah listen up chicko I hustle i get dough U fuckin wit a sicko I spazz let a clip go Cannon out da rental Beam to ya temple I squeez blow your mental All ova ya friends [Lloyd Banks] Me im from the street We aint nothin sweet The home of the homies Theres a body every week Now i dont hear the sirens But they prolly gonna creep Plottin to pull me ova Plant the CAKE in my jeep So ill be skippin cities 7 states in aweek Cant a muthafucka breathin tell me i cant eat Show me the MONEY the MONEY the MONEY the MONEY the CAKE Niggas slow down pump ya breaks No mistakes Cause the jakes Run the plates Then u headed up state For rollin round wit a steak Niggas start up the beef And run straight to the cops You a bitch ass nigga The cupCAKE of the block Any nigga disrespect the click gettin shot Round here niggas get found upside down Ova the MONEY the MONEY the MONEY the MONEY the CAKE |
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from Lloyd Banks - Mo`Money In The Bank (2008)
(Lloyd Banks)
This here is a little more than a mixtape so maybe i'll perform it uh, the whip shine like theres baby oil on it i honk the airhorn at them bitches in the street ayy, remember me, the on you called a creep now my weed so sweet, i hit it and fall asleep wake up, roll up again, i get it and bought it cheap now you showin off jewlery and couldnt afford to keep and he wont show his face so ima hook him on the beat ima animal too, i put the hammer a do make you feel like you need one so i ran with it too in blue, now all of a sudden im back and my shit buzzin the broads the kids the bloods and the crips love em 'causein, we got the city on smash when i'm at the stop like they put titties on the glass im the leader of the class, the heat is in the stash i dont read up on a pass, i dictate the future millenium boy, you just cant get rid of ya boy i chuck em the deuce and get a new toy these niggas better start actin right, i aint rap too tight i'll leave ya head red and white like a apple bite come nigga , i got a fat niggas appetite pass thru the traffic light, smash on the coppers light (voooom) the punchline kid is back nigga, look what my punchlines did for rap inspired the new jacks thats why they sound like that where they chained down ear to the ground like that the games in now, shot me 'cause hes the punk 2 niggas in one like shot g and humpty hump its on now, you got to pop me to shut me up slugs missed ya, we aint mad at ya, boy he ducked we can go hole for hole or cut for cut it wont be the first time yall better toughen up radio is all messed up now wat the f**k is that it gave em all of the spins and got nothin back save ya self studio time and pump it back i punch a car, you scream help when you see the sarg. i'll go upside ya head, you'll see a bunch of stars and yellow moons, im ballin with a plus garage im Hugh Heffner all over when it come to broads even the ones that dont fit in hump the cars(yeah) im back, i cant wait to see you niggas in the street i cant wait to see you niggas go to sleep i cant wait to see you niggas 6 feet...underground for f**kin whit me now(blaaam!!) |
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from G-Unit - T.O.S. (Terminate On Sight) (2008)
[Chorus:]
Lil mama so hood... I f**ked yo girl Lil mama so fly... I f**ked yo girl Man tha xxxxx was good... I f**ked yo girl Man I ain't gone lie... I f**ked yo girl We was all ova tha bed... I f**ked yo girl Man she even gave me head... I f**ked yo girl From Time to time I hate to tell u that yo xxxxx b mineeee [50 Cent:] She see me by tha bar She watch me blow stacks Her man ain't a hustler Man he can't do that He got a 9 to 5 Used to pump packs Got knocked once And he neva came back I had her in my bentley I had her in tha lac We do it like tha dogs do Rite in the back I give that xxx a smack N she like it like that Get deeper n deeper in tha kitty cat [Chorus:] Lil mama so hood... I f**ked yo girl Lil mama so fly... I f**ked yo girl Man tha xxxxx was good... I f**ked yo girl Man I ain't gone lie... I f**ked yo girl We was all ova tha bed... I f**ked yo girl Man she even gave me head... I f**ked yo girl From Time to time I hate to tell u that yo xxxxx b mineeee (Tony Yayo) She ova hea with me He tryna call her ova there She like; F**K THAT NIGGA... She drop it down to tha flo' I'm like Shawty u Can go She like; F**K THAT NIGGA... Shawty With me Cherry M3 Ps up in tha Red shwaty gimme head... Ahhha... ahhhahhhahhhh [Chorus:] Lil mama so hood... I f**ked yo girl Lil mama so fly... I f**ked yo girl Man tha xxxxx was good... I f**ked yo girl Man I ain't gone lie... I f**ked yo girl We was all ova tha bed... I f**ked yo girl Man she even gave me head... I f**ked yo girl From Time to time I hate to tell u that yo xxxxx b mineeee [Lloyd Banks:] If u hearin I f**ked yo girl I prolly did Had her butt naked making breakfast in tha crib If u wooda saw wat she did to tha boy u woodnt wan her no more Left xxx in her jaw... unh 1 nutt 2 nutt 3 nutts 4 5 nutts 6 nutts 7 nutts more Have it how u want I rather have it hardcore Ya legs on my neck ya neck damn there on tha floor [Young Buck:] Nigga that's my bitch I don't wanna hear shit She like; F**K THAT NIGGA... U can't do it like this Nigga you are not rich Tell her; F**K THAT NIGGA... Dope Boy with my top droped Got ya baby mama hot Beggin me to stop but I'm a rock star Look wat I got for her sum dirty south nutts In her dirty south mouth she a dirty south slut... WAT? !? [Chorus:] Lil mama so hood... I f**ked yo girl Lil mama so fly... I f**ked yo girl Man tha xxxxx was good... I f**ked yo girl Man I ain't gone lie... I f**ked yo girl We was all ova tha bed... I f**ked yo girl Man she even gave me head... I f**ked yo girl From Time to time I hate to tell u that yo xxxxx b mineeee |
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from G-Unit - T.O.S. (Terminate On Sight) (2008)
[Chorus:]
Lil mama so hood... I f**ked yo girl Lil mama so fly... I f**ked yo girl Man tha xxxxx was good... I f**ked yo girl Man I ain't gone lie... I f**ked yo girl We was all ova tha bed... I f**ked yo girl Man she even gave me head... I f**ked yo girl From Time to time I hate to tell u that yo xxxxx b mineeee [50 Cent:] She see me by tha bar She watch me blow stacks Her man ain't a hustler Man he can't do that He got a 9 to 5 Used to pump packs Got knocked once And he neva came back I had her in my bentley I had her in tha lac We do it like tha dogs do Rite in the back I give that xxx a smack N she like it like that Get deeper n deeper in tha kitty cat [Chorus:] Lil mama so hood... I f**ked yo girl Lil mama so fly... I f**ked yo girl Man tha xxxxx was good... I f**ked yo girl Man I ain't gone lie... I f**ked yo girl We was all ova tha bed... I f**ked yo girl Man she even gave me head... I f**ked yo girl From Time to time I hate to tell u that yo xxxxx b mineeee (Tony Yayo) She ova hea with me He tryna call her ova there She like; F**K THAT NIGGA... She drop it down to tha flo' I'm like Shawty u Can go She like; F**K THAT NIGGA... Shawty With me Cherry M3 Ps up in tha Red shwaty gimme head... Ahhha... ahhhahhhahhhh [Chorus:] Lil mama so hood... I f**ked yo girl Lil mama so fly... I f**ked yo girl Man tha xxxxx was good... I f**ked yo girl Man I ain't gone lie... I f**ked yo girl We was all ova tha bed... I f**ked yo girl Man she even gave me head... I f**ked yo girl From Time to time I hate to tell u that yo xxxxx b mineeee [Lloyd Banks:] If u hearin I f**ked yo girl I prolly did Had her butt naked making breakfast in tha crib If u wooda saw wat she did to tha boy u woodnt wan her no more Left xxx in her jaw... unh 1 nutt 2 nutt 3 nutts 4 5 nutts 6 nutts 7 nutts more Have it how u want I rather have it hardcore Ya legs on my neck ya neck damn there on tha floor [Young Buck:] Nigga that's my bitch I don't wanna hear shit She like; F**K THAT NIGGA... U can't do it like this Nigga you are not rich Tell her; F**K THAT NIGGA... Dope Boy with my top droped Got ya baby mama hot Beggin me to stop but I'm a rock star Look wat I got for her sum dirty south nutts In her dirty south mouth she a dirty south slut... WAT? !? [Chorus:] Lil mama so hood... I f**ked yo girl Lil mama so fly... I f**ked yo girl Man tha xxxxx was good... I f**ked yo girl Man I ain't gone lie... I f**ked yo girl We was all ova tha bed... I f**ked yo girl Man she even gave me head... I f**ked yo girl From Time to time I hate to tell u that yo xxxxx b mineeee |
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from Lloyd Banks - Rotten Apple (2006)
So you say you a gangsta, right
Are you really a rider, yea You don't take shit from no one, no And got your mind on your motherfuckin' dough, lets go I'll be a South Side nigga till I rot Even though I got the yacht in the million dollar bot Superman armor on the '69 drop 0ut of every 70 rappers 69 flop I blowed a buck in the corner, just to get the feel My head light smooth when I move the steering wheel I ain't running from nothing, its top dollar to chill I pop bottles for real, with pop artists that kill I move 2 mill, my backyard is a field I ain't tough for the tube, I'll smack y'all for real Go head hate on me now, you'll miss a nigga later I'm hood like butter holes and pissy elevators I went from playing the same block to Bangkok So I can get money between raindrops And my piece so heavy I pop a chain a week And get so much pussy I cant sleep [Chorus] Poppa was a rolling stone Never came back home now I'm on my own So I had to learn a few things bout survival Like the ice pick done off the bottom If you scared don't come around here Guns ammunition don't run out here As soon you get the paper you try it A nigga try me he wont see tomorrow I ain't even got a license yet and got 7 cars, yep TV the same size as Kevin Garnett A brand new buzz, Mac 10 and a chopper White fan base cause Eminem is my partner I'm a Ferrari and Jag copper, you a glass shopper I blow marijuana the color of grass hopper I ain't a regular nigga All the promoters pay 100 more to bring your boy to Singapore My dress code got the best hoes jumping on 'em Elvis's and Red Monkey with the monkey on 'em Shelves'll leave a niggas food stamps blue Like a full tube of acid in your shampoo We don't tolerate the cock blocking out the bricks We got fif's with the cop stoppers in the clips Watch your mouth bitch, there's rocks popping out the wrists And my outfits, a eye stopper for the chicks [Chorus] A nigga throw his hands up at me, I send a dummy harmed And had money wrong shoot him in his underarm Pick up a shell, that'll be his lucky charm I got a chunky arm, I'm a fucking Don I burn big everyday, nothing but the bong I don't cuddle, as soon as I get the nut I'm gone I'm in a class all by myself I'll whoop your ass all by myself I got white gold, rose gold, yellow gold, platinum Young hoes, old hoes, yellow ones and black ones I been patiently waiting to get on my shit again So this is for the corner they cornered a nigga in I wish you would try jump me, I'll wave the gat by you And burn your eyelashes off like a crack lighter Nigga you stupid riding by trying to blast me Cause my window got the glass from a taxi [Chorus] |
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from G-Unit - G Unit - Stunt 101 [single] (2003)
Yea, uh huh, Stunt 101, yeah
(Chorus)(50 Cent) I teach you how to stunt My wrist stay rocked My T.V's pop up in the maybach Beennnnz I teach you how to stunt You can see my Bentley G.T. got so great endz I teach you how to stunt My neck stay blingin, my whip stay gleamin, im shinin mannn I teach you how to stunt I see you schemin, nigga keep on dreamin, Ill hurt you mannn (Verse 1)(50 Cent) 7 Series BM, 6 Series Benz 24 inches, Giovanni rimz All one, one wheel, when I want one of them Ma, that boy I been actin a fool, thats him They say I changed man, I'm gettin paper, Im flashy They like me better when Im fucked up and ashy My royalty checks the rebirth to Liberace Stunt so hard, everybody gotta watch me And I dont really care, if it's platinum or white gold Long as it's VS, BLING!, look at that light show In the hood they say 50 man, your sneaker look right yo Just cant believe Reebok did a deal with a psycho Banks is a sure thing, yall niggaz might blow Im finna drop that, so i suggest you lay low Buck, he from Cash, still tend a ki nigga He gettin em ten a piece, save ten fo me nigga (Chorus) (Verse 2)(Lloyd Banks) I've been sensin a lot of tension now that I'm rappin, but the kids used to look up to you, what happened? Me on the contrary, hand covered with Platinum Different colour Coupes but I'm in love with the black one. On point, cause you get R.I.P.s when slackin so the stash box big enough to squeeze the mac, and yeah I'm fairly new but I demand some respect cause i already wear your advance on my neck I'm fresh of the jet then i breeze to the beaches Blue yankee fitted, G-Unit Sneakers Already figured out what to do with all my features decorate the basement, full of street sweepers. When it comes to stuntin' there ain't nothin' you can teach us, We're in a different time zone, your records don't reach us, naw I ain't here to save the world, just roll up a blunt come with me out front, I'll teach you how to stunt! (Chorus) (Verse 3)(Young Buck) The kid's so icy, you dont have to like me In a throwback jersey, with the throwback Nike's I know you probably seen me with Cash Money from back in the days The only thing changed, is the numbers on the Range I bought me an Old School, and blew out the brains The Roc the Mic tour, I threw off my chain My Spreewell's spinnin man, Im doin my thing And whoadie now in trouble now, its you in the game Come on now, we all know gold is gettin old The ice in my teeth keep the Cristal cold G-Unit homie, actin like ya'll dont know Look - I cant even walk through the mall no more I just pull up, get out, and get all the hoes They never seen doors let up on a car before Dont be mad at me dawg, it's all I know Is how to show these fougaisies how its sposed to go (Chorus) |
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| from G-Unit - G Unit - Stunt 101 [single] (2003) | |||||
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from G-Unit - G Unit - Stunt 101 [single] (2003)
Yea, uh huh, Stunt 101, yeah
(Chorus)(50 Cent) I teach you how to stunt My wrist stay rocked My T.V's pop up in the maybach Beennnnz I teach you how to stunt You can see my Bentley G.T. got so great endz I teach you how to stunt My neck stay blingin, my whip stay gleamin, im shinin mannn I teach you how to stunt I see you schemin, nigga keep on dreamin, Ill hurt you mannn (Verse 1)(50 Cent) 7 Series BM, 6 Series Benz 24 inches, Giovanni rimz All one, one wheel, when I want one of them Ma, that boy I been actin a fool, thats him They say I changed man, I'm gettin paper, Im flashy They like me better when Im fucked up and ashy My royalty checks the rebirth to Liberace Stunt so hard, everybody gotta watch me And I dont really care, if it's platinum or white gold Long as it's VS, BLING!, look at that light show In the hood they say 50 man, your sneaker look right yo Just cant believe Reebok did a deal with a psycho Banks is a sure thing, yall niggaz might blow Im finna drop that, so i suggest you lay low Buck, he from Cash, still tend a ki nigga He gettin em ten a piece, save ten fo me nigga (Chorus) (Verse 2)(Lloyd Banks) I've been sensin a lot of tension now that I'm rappin, but the kids used to look up to you, what happened? Me on the contrary, hand covered with Platinum Different colour Coupes but I'm in love with the black one. On point, cause you get R.I.P.s when slackin so the stash box big enough to squeeze the mac, and yeah I'm fairly new but I demand some respect cause i already wear your advance on my neck I'm fresh of the jet then i breeze to the beaches Blue yankee fitted, G-Unit Sneakers Already figured out what to do with all my features decorate the basement, full of street sweepers. When it comes to stuntin' there ain't nothin' you can teach us, We're in a different time zone, your records don't reach us, naw I ain't here to save the world, just roll up a blunt come with me out front, I'll teach you how to stunt! (Chorus) (Verse 3)(Young Buck) The kid's so icy, you dont have to like me In a throwback jersey, with the throwback Nike's I know you probably seen me with Cash Money from back in the days The only thing changed, is the numbers on the Range I bought me an Old School, and blew out the brains The Roc the Mic tour, I threw off my chain My Spreewell's spinnin man, Im doin my thing And whoadie now in trouble now, its you in the game Come on now, we all know gold is gettin old The ice in my teeth keep the Cristal cold G-Unit homie, actin like ya'll dont know Look - I cant even walk through the mall no more I just pull up, get out, and get all the hoes They never seen doors let up on a car before Dont be mad at me dawg, it's all I know Is how to show these fougaisies how its sposed to go (Chorus) |
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3:52 |
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from G-Unit - Beg For Mercy (2003)
[Chorus]
[50 Cent] I'll teach you how to stunt My wrists stay rocked up My TV's pop up in a Maybach benz I'll teach you how to stunt Nigga you can't see me My bently GT got smoke-gray tints I'll teach you how to stunt My neck stay blinging, my rims stay gleaming, I'm shining man I'll teach you how to stunt I see you scheming, nigga keep on dreaming, I hurt ya mans I'll teach you how to stunt [50 Cent] Seven series BM, Six series benz Twenty-four inches, Giovanni rims All on one wheel when I'm on one of them Ma, that boy out there actin a fool that's him They say I've changed man, I'm getting paper, I'm flashy They like me better when I'm fucked up and ashy My royalty check's the rebirth of Liberace Stunt so hard, everybody got to watch me And I don't really care if it's platinum or white gold As long as the VS bling, look at that light show In the hood they say Fifty man your sneaker look white yo Just can't believe Reebok did a deal with a psycho Banks is a sure thing, yall niggaz might blow I'm fittin to drop that, so I suggest you lay low Buc, he from Cashville, Tenneckee nigga Getting them ten of keys, save ten for me nigga [Chorus] [Lloyd Banks] I'm sensing a lot of tension now that I'm rappin But the kids used to look up to you, what happened? Me on the contrary, hand covered with platinum Different color coupes but I'm in love with the black one On point, cuz you get R.I.P.'s when slacking So the stashbox big enough to squeeze the mack in Yeah, I'm fairly new but I demand some respect Cuz I already wear your advance on my neck I'm fresh off the jet, then I breeze to the beaches Blue yankee fitted, G-Unit sneakers I already figured out what to do with all my features Decorate the basement, full of street sweepers When it comes to stuntin' theres nothing you can teach us We're in a different time zone, your records don't reach us Naww, I ain't here to save the world, just roll up a blunt Come with me out front, I'LL TEACH YOU HOW TO STUNT [Chorus] [Young Buc] Chain so icy, you don't have to like me In a throwback jersey, with the throwback nikes I know you probably seen me with Cash Money from back in the days The only thing changed is the numbers on the range I bought me an old school and blew out the brains The Roc the Mic tour, I threw off my chain My sprewell's spinning man, I'm doing my thing And whodi now in trouble now that you in the game Come on now, we all know gold is getting old The ice in my teeth keep the crystal cold G-Unit homie, actin' like yall don't know Look, I can't even walk through the mall no more I just pull up, get out, and get all the hoes They never seen doors lift up on a car before Don't be mad at me dog, that's all I know That's how to show these fougaisies how it's supposed to go [Chorus] |
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from Lloyd Banks - Rotten Apple (2006)
Uh! I'm doin' my thang (I'm doin' my thang)
G-Unit's my gang (G-Unit's my gang) Ma I gotta get mine (Ma I gotta get mine) All the day all the time (All the day all the time) Nigga you know how we roll (Nigga you know how we roll) Twenty three's twenty four's (Twenty three's twenty four's) I'm holdin' my ground (I'm holdin' my ground) In case somethin' goes down (In case somethin' goes down) Uh! Yeah don't fall for a big butt and a smile They set ya up you fuck around have to buck in the crowd Around my way, ain't sunshine ev'ryday Niggas'll cross ya, you should hear the slang they say In a land of attitudes A-K's and accidents Where niggas split blunts eight ways and pack the bitch Mama spit me out with a spindle and I been mackin' since And I'm stubborn, so I don't lean back and flinch Your perpetratin', embarrasin' the crooks Plus your frontin' they only seen Paris in the books Whenever you leave the bricks watch the niggas you roll with Before you know it niggas be shootin' up yo' shit The clubs a fashion show, so niggas go get And rev up all the broke niggas rockin' they old shit Before the night is done they be another murder Put your money to the side for another burner [Chorus] (Stranger) Don't bring 'em 'round if I don't know 'em like that I feel like it's targets all over my back Because of these broads that's layin' over my lap A nigga that young ain't 'sposed to live like that I just saw the dealer and I'm goin right back Stashin' my guns cause I know they might rat I'm doin' my thang (I'm doin' my thang) G-Unit's my gang (G-Unit's my gang) Uh! I'm frontin' in my G62's the yellow and royal blues I'm better than all you dudes hot metal for all you fools The one that niggas admire many study all my moves And I'm focused, cause I'm a end up bloody if I snooze You a sucker for love, or maybe I'm a bit different If you ask me, is your baby mama's a pigeon? I just bought the mansion and ma dukes pop the ribbon And I'm out poppin' Cris bitch I'll show you how I'm livin' I keep havin' them dreams bout niggas gettin' the drop on me Lettin' them things fly up and down the block for me True fear niggas don't feel ya they triflin' But I adapt, cause I used to think just like 'em As soon as I hit the top I noticed the sudden change It's probably the Maserati, Ferrari, yeah the Range This is Southside street talk the hood slang And my product, a open your nose like good Caine [Chorus] |
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2:36 |
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from G-Unit - T.O.S. (Terminate On Sight) (2008)
Straight outta Sideside
Crazy muthafucka named Bank-o Crack rap, million dolla bankroll Black Lac, for my outta state ho These niggas talk gangsta But really ain't tho I'm a stormy night, you a rainbow I'm a G, tight clothes ain't my thang bro Fuck the Police with an HIV carrier No vaseline in the M-16 I'm ridin dirty but the Bent pimp clean And gotta body like I feed it creatine My birth stone in diamond, my favorite color's green I smoke lean and piss Louis the XIII My name is Yayo A crazy nigga he don't play tho I hitcha planters peanut with the .80 Al Qaeda expert merkin When all my niggas die They gon have 80 virgins I'm the 'Burb swervin Cause I'm drunk and I'm high With that glock and pump, that mac and .45 Fuck the police they killed Sean Bell Fuck the FEDS I still deal fishscale Mini me niggas wanna copy my style But legal aid lawyers ain't good for trial Pull up to the projects and throw the kids 100's Drop top Phantom got him sick in his stomach Nigga it's Boo-Boo But you can call me 50 Fuck with me the police will have to get me 760 I-I ride I'm a rider Molsotov, I toss that, you on fire Beef pop, I'll stop talkin n get quiet Put the muzzle on the Tech look like it's on fire My gun jammed and unjammed like I planned it Like I was jus takin a breather I'm back blamming I'm Charles Bronson, Dirty Harry with the cannon You shootin back, but u ain't hittin Shit I'm still standing When shit don't go down smooth I don't panic Switch pistol, switch hands, switch targets hit ya man Yea, nigga I'm straight outta southside I'm back on dat gorilla shit, dat cold hearted killa shit Stunt witcha mouth wide We move around militant We trained for some iller shit Southside |
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2:36 |
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from G-Unit - T.O.S. (Terminate On Sight) (2008)
Straight outta Sideside
Crazy muthafucka named Bank-o Crack rap, million dolla bankroll Black Lac, for my outta state ho These niggas talk gangsta But really ain't tho I'm a stormy night, you a rainbow I'm a G, tight clothes ain't my thang bro Fuck the Police with an HIV carrier No vaseline in the M-16 I'm ridin dirty but the Bent pimp clean And gotta body like I feed it creatine My birth stone in diamond, my favorite color's green I smoke lean and piss Louis the XIII My name is Yayo A crazy nigga he don't play tho I hitcha planters peanut with the .80 Al Qaeda expert merkin When all my niggas die They gon have 80 virgins I'm the 'Burb swervin Cause I'm drunk and I'm high With that glock and pump, that mac and .45 Fuck the police they killed Sean Bell Fuck the FEDS I still deal fishscale Mini me niggas wanna copy my style But legal aid lawyers ain't good for trial Pull up to the projects and throw the kids 100's Drop top Phantom got him sick in his stomach Nigga it's Boo-Boo But you can call me 50 Fuck with me the police will have to get me 760 I-I ride I'm a rider Molsotov, I toss that, you on fire Beef pop, I'll stop talkin n get quiet Put the muzzle on the Tech look like it's on fire My gun jammed and unjammed like I planned it Like I was jus takin a breather I'm back blamming I'm Charles Bronson, Dirty Harry with the cannon You shootin back, but u ain't hittin Shit I'm still standing When shit don't go down smooth I don't panic Switch pistol, switch hands, switch targets hit ya man Yea, nigga I'm straight outta southside I'm back on dat gorilla shit, dat cold hearted killa shit Stunt witcha mouth wide We move around militant We trained for some iller shit Southside |
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| from Lloyd Banks - Mo`Money In The Bank (2008) | |||||
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3:01 |
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from Lloyd Banks - The Hunger For More (2004)
(Intro)
Yea! Yea I done learn from mistake from my men Who's not whose gone run? Who's not whose gone shoot if you shot? Who gone hold they own who's not Who's gone choose spots? (Chorus) In the streets of New York you can't trust nobody Ni99a will run up on you wit a 12 gate shoty When your Jaycobs freeze smokin' weed is my hobby You wanna rob me your gonna leave here wit a body (Verse 1) When I was 10 years old I seen a ni99a take 3 in the head Probably around the same time he used to pee in the bed I stay a wake 'cause my nightmares of seeing him dead The smell of burnt tire after leaving him lead The killer fled wit a f**kin laugh My heart pumpin on blast I just stare at him something to grasp Arms moving figure shaking spitting up blood DNA mixed in the mud another ditch to be dug There I stood stiffer than wood See homie use to buy me candy Now he's gone whose provide his family My ear ringing should have been runnin' I never thought I could be that sick Damn! I was suppose to see that sh*t That's when I thought it was more than 3 shots He could have been aiming for me Maybe he circled around the block I turn around to my pops He like what happen? This ni99a rolled up and started clappin' I can still hear em' laughin' (Chorus) (Verse 2) It was a regular day in Southside Sprink-aklers kids running all of a sudden Heads turnin somebody did somethin' This ni99a name I forgot F**k it he lived around the block Regular getting money ni99a But love to clown a lot Walked across the park stuntin' frontin' Diamond in his hear diamond watch on Eatin' a bag of popcorn Walked up behind this shorty grabbin' her waist She pushed him away so he threw the bag in her face She felt disrespected shorty couldn't except it Called him a p**sy told him she be back in a second He didn't pay her no mind called her b**ch bout 4 times Stayed in the park wit a ni99a wit a mano nine Then in no time older ni99a From behind swung a baseball bat Left his face all cracked told him take all that Hit him again popped his chain wit a frown Love to clown wit his stain on the ground (Chorus) (Verse 3) And all my days go by blowin that sticky icky California made me picky chicken heads tryin to stick me wit a hicky If we go up quickly stick me Somewhere tipsy the location don't matter I'm Southside to they hit me I'd be dead it foots can kill I'm from the ghetto boys But I don't know scarface I'd push wit bill My heart spills for the kids That ain't got nothing They gotta steal and For my cousin I lost Leftover I still remember you (Chorus) |
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4:11 |
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from Lloyd Banks - The Hunger For More (2004)
Yeah, Yeah, Yeah
I done learned from mistakes like who's my men, and who's not Like who's gone run, but who's not Like who's gone shoot if you shot Who gone hold it and who's not Who gone change spots [Chorus] In the streets of New York, you can't trust nobody Niggaz'll run up on you with a 12-gauge shotty Loyalty comes free, smokin' weed is my hobby You want to rob me, you gotta leave here with a body In the streets of New York, You can't trust nobody Niggaz'll run up on you with a 12-gauge shotty Loyalty comes free, smokin' weed is my hobby You want to rob me, you gotta leave here with a body [Verse 1] When I was ten years old, I seen a nigga take three in the head Probably around the same time he used to pee in the bed I stayed awake, cause my nightmares was seein' 'em dead Smelled the burnt tires peelin' after leavin' him lead The killer fled, with a fuckin' laugh My heart pumpin' on blast I just started at him, slumped in the grass Arms movin', fingers shakin', spittin' up blood DNA mixed in the mud, another ditch to be dug There I stood, stiffer than wood See homey used to buy me candy Now he's gone, who gone provide his family? My earring, shoulda been runnin' I never thought I'd be that sick Damn, I wasn't 'posed to see that shit That's when I thought It was more than three shots He coulda been waitin for me, maybe he circled around the block I turned around at my pops, he like "what happened?" This nigga rolled up and just started clappin' I can still hear him laughin' [Chorus] [Verse 2] It was a regular day in South Side, sprinklers and kids runnin' All of a sudden, head's turnin', somebody did somethin' This nigga named, I forgot, fuck it, he lived around the block Regular gettin' money nigga, but loved to clown a lot Walked across the park, stuntin', frontin' Diamonds in his ear, diamond watch on Eatin' a bag of popcorn Walked up behind a shorty, grabbin' her waist She pushed him away, so he threw the bag in her face She felt disrespected, shorty couldn't accept it Called him a pussy, told him she'd be back in a second But he din't pay her no mind Called her a bitch about four times Stayed in the park, wit' no niggaz wit' em and no nine And them in no time, older nigga from behind Swung a baseball bat, left his face all crack Told him "take all that" Hit him again, popped his chain wit' a frown And left the clown, with a stain on the ground [Chorus] [Verse 3] All my days go by blowin' that sticky, icky California made me picky Chicken head tried to stick me wit' a hickey If we, blow up quickly, stickly, somewhere tipsy The location don't matter, I'm South Side until' they hit me I'll be DEAD If looks can kill, I'm from the ghetto boys But I don't know Scarface, I push wit' bill My heart spills For the kids that ain't got nothin' ain't got it still And for my, cousin I lost Humped over the steerin' wheel [Chorus] |
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3:38 |
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from G-Unit - Beg For Mercy (2003)
[50 Cent]
Yeah, this somethin special y'know, somethin epic Lloyd Banks, you know Cause a nigga thuggin don't mean he don't ..Wanna see you smile baby ... Wooo! I wanna be the reason you smile I wanna be the reason you smi-ile I wanna be the reason you smile After you wipe away your tears and dry your eyes [Lloyd Banks] I'm gettin the feelin you wanna take revenge From the conversations we have and the way it ends You wanna discuss me in front of your lady friends That's why it's just me and my Mercedes Benz It all depends, maybe if we make amends We can start from scratch Learn to control your temper and remarks in fact We plan to be platonic but the hearts in tact So everytime we seperate, somebody's marchin back You're amazing in the sack Eyes slanted like you're Asian, but you're black God Bless whoever gave you all of that If you seen her from the back You'd understand why dis feel like that And ain't a flaw to her toes, the Lord knows Her pussy good enough to miss award shows And I ain't gotta say nothin, she just knows By the way I look at her to take off all her clothes Up and down [Chorus: Lloyd Banks + (50 Cent)] Whenever I'm not around , and you feelin down Let the thought of me be (be the reason you smile) I don't wanna see you frown, like them kids watch a clown I wanna bring you joy and be (be the reason you smile) Baby, you know my style, you know how I get down I provide by any means to be (be the reason you smile) We done been through ups and downs, had drama for a while I'm just happy I'm around to be (the reason you smile) [Lloyd Banks] The main reason I been lookin at you pitiful What about the half of this shit I done did to you Violated and tip toed into a crib or two I've come clean to be a bigger individual Even though you're busy boo, the evening's when I visit you Kinda makes me feel lucky, cause I see niggaz when you tease 'em with your physical She wanna rack up her brooms, I ain't got no more room left Wild drama, section 8 princess My foreign chick bad, but she been stressed Cause it's hard to communicate Cause she don't speak no ingles I been around the world from state to state But now I'm back bustin in your bathroom Got you laughin in your shower cap, let's get it on Cause I'm leavin in a hour flat, really dont matter, shes mad Even when I holla back All I really need your attention for a while And, I bet you I can make you smile [Chorus - 2X] |
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3:01 |
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from G-Unit - Beg For Mercy (2003)
General, I salute you
I'll put a hole in any nigga tryna shoot you It ain't nothing 'cause loyalty is what I'm used to And what I won't do, I'll have one of my troops do Nigga we'll kill you I'm ready for combat, a solider on the frontline Take me to the streets, nigga mothafuck a punchline It only take one time, for you to send a death threat And watch these bullets have that ass singing like Keith Sweat You ain't met me yet I been camoflauged in the bushes And I'm co-signing Fifty, 'cause them niggas all pussies Bustin' shots at ya convoy You don't want war No surrender, no retreat this is Vietnam boy Check my war wounds, I done took a couple for the team Only niggas that been on the battlefield know what I mean Take cover we coming, pulling pins outta grenades You won't make it to the general, without getting sprayed Might as well say "Hello" to my brand new little friend Only time he come out, to put holes in grown men You continue troops and get 'em all blowed back Walk up on 'em with a deuce-deuce and nigga all that, what! General, I salute you I'll put a hole in any nigga tryna shoot you It ain't nothing 'cause loyalty is what I'm used to And what I won't do, I'll have one of my troops do Nigga we'll kill you General, I salute you I'll put a hole in any nigga tryna shoot you It ain't nothing 'cause loyalty is what I'm used to And what I won't do, I'll have one of my troops do Nigga we'll kill you Look nigga, I suggest you go home 'Cause I won't hesitate to let the chrome touch ya Nigga I'm never scared like Bone Crusher Stand alone, provide my own supper Tell ya baby mama stop coming around here or I'm gon' fuck her Don't tryta pick up for them lames around you You get shots for free, like I fragant fouled you I'm on the road blowing grade A haze and brown Got niggas running like the KKK's around My album's coming, a new year's approaching My buzz getting bigger, my few ears is open Can ya team play in the game without you their to coach 'em There's a very fine line between a pool and the ocean Sometimes I'm in Atlanta where they make head bounce And you can come, but after you give Banks head, bounce These niggas really want war, 'cause if so Get on your vest, 'cause all you gotta do is say that General, I salute you I'll put a hole in any nigga tryna shoot you It ain't nothing 'cause loyalty is what I'm used to And what I won't do, I'll have one of my troops do Nigga we'll kill you General, I salute you I'll put a hole in any nigga tryna shoot you It ain't nothing 'cause loyalty is what I'm used to And what I won't do, I'll have one of my troops do Nigga we'll kill you |
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4:28 |
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from Lloyd Banks - Rotten Apple (2006)
I'm on parole, I used to be on probation
I'm with my gun I get full corporation I tell you "take it off" no hesitation Nigga you play around, I lay you down That's how it's goin' down Don't play wit' me, I don't have patients My headachin', and I need my medication Niggas be hatin', they don't know what they facin' Nigga you play around, I lay you down That's how it's goin' down I be in court throwin' signs like I'm a mason Nigga witness against me, I'm a erase 'em If they try an runaway, I'm a chase 'em Now with the pound, and I'm a lay 'em down That's how it's goin' down [Chorus] Better watch how you talk Better watch where you walk On the streets of New York That's how we get down 22's on the jeep Somethin' deep in the seat When we creep wit the heat That's how we get down Wise men listen and laugh while fools talk Stick up kids don't live long in New York Fuck around and catch the wrong jukes on the street Get caught slippin', then get hit wit' like three In every hood in the US, I'm that nigga they feelin' Rap full of good guys, 50 Cent is the villain I play the bar with 8 bottles all night gettin' right Teachin' the hood rats what Cristal taste like I put 60 on wrist, 12 on my fist, 100 on my neck We in the hood nigga schemin', what you expect? My S on 22's leave ya hos confused On the track ready to choose, like "Daddy we want you" My love live ain't change, the shorties still hug me Bullet wound in my face, and bitches still love me Now Nelly told you how them country boys talk I came to teach you how we put it down in New York That's how we get down [Chorus] In the city, a young buck'll tell you how the mac spit O.G. give 'em the word, you gonna get yo' ass hit I don't know why niggas like to talk bad about me I'm the richest nigga they know without a G.E.D. Man it could be the money, it could be the ice It could be they'd like to be me and can't live my life You should here they be sayin' man "50 be flippin'" "Shot my man over 7 grams, that nigga be trippin'" I know death is promised, I don't fear gettin' murked It's when a nigga half-way killa ya homie, it hurts Now we can hit the club and get it crunked Or you could start some shit, and I could hit you with The pump, you can have it how you want But I know you like my style (Uh-Huh) Ya like how I break it down, want to get rich? I'll show you how, take this pack, pump these pieces That's how we get down [Chorus] |
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2:49 |
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from G-Unit - T.O.S. (Terminate On Sight) (2008)
[50 Cent - Chorus]
I done told ya boy, Im'a soldier boy I got no choice but to be a rider I approach ya boy, with the toaster boy Get to point blank range & firrreee I aint tryna hear shit Im supposed to be rich Mother fucker get in way of my bread Then Im gone load my shit, then cock my shit Nigga Trip i'll come for your head [50 Cent - Verse 1] I'll have ya nigga in the ambulance tellin' ya 'Hold on' The choir at your funeral singin' for so long The top shotter that rock product, the block gotta That pop hollows & pop bottles the whole spots The more paper the more strength we gone get it The four fifth come with a Inf we ain't missin' Im back on my bullshit a verse is a full clip Catch you with ya bitch throw a song in ya new whip [Young Buck - Verse 2] Nigga its G-Unit Fuck ya clique, like sifiless bitch you stuck with this Im a loyal nigga, die behind mine Even If 50 dropped me I still wouldn't sign Either lost 'yo mind, or pumped 'yo head Tryna stop my shine, but I got bread And I ain't got time, to hear what they said When I catch them cowards Im'a bust they head [50 Cent - Chorus] I done told ya boy, Im'a soldier boy I got no choice but to be a rider I approach ya boy, with the toaster boy Get to point blank range & firrreee I aint tryna hear shit Im supposed to be rich Mother fucker get in way of my bread Then Im gone load my shit, then cock my shit Nigga trip i'll come for your head [Lloyd Banks - Verse 3] Im comin' outta Southside, you know Im raw Big ass cheque, they show I score Pull the dough out and roll out the cream Azure Fo' fo' out I know 'bout the Keizer of war Im hot, five hundred degrees or more My door'll block an M16 or more Im in the store coppin' shit you ain't seen before Black card swiping, green galore [Tony Yayo - Verse 4] Yeah yeah.. I said these niggas stop talkin' then start worryin' The FEDS keep comin', the money we buryin' Im in a loft, Im in a green Porsche I let that thing off, I turn T-Wolf I drive a spaceship nigga 2008 shit Her made kicks on, I stay in Ape shit Niggas on some hate shit, they all get hit Russian AK Haitian flag on the clip [50 Cent - Chorus] I done told ya boy, Im'a soldier boy I got no choice but to be a rider I approach ya boy, with the toaster boy Get to point blank range & firrreee I aint tryna hear shit Im supposed to be rich Mother fucker get in way of my bread Then Im gone load my shit, then cock my shit Nigga Trip i'll come for your head |
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2:49 |
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from G-Unit - T.O.S. (Terminate On Sight) (2008)
[50 Cent - Chorus]
I done told ya boy, Im'a soldier boy I got no choice but to be a rider I approach ya boy, with the toaster boy Get to point blank range & firrreee I aint tryna hear shit Im supposed to be rich Mother fucker get in way of my bread Then Im gone load my shit, then cock my shit Nigga Trip i'll come for your head [50 Cent - Verse 1] I'll have ya nigga in the ambulance tellin' ya 'Hold on' The choir at your funeral singin' for so long The top shotter that rock product, the block gotta That pop hollows & pop bottles the whole spots The more paper the more strength we gone get it The four fifth come with a Inf we ain't missin' Im back on my bullshit a verse is a full clip Catch you with ya bitch throw a song in ya new whip [Young Buck - Verse 2] Nigga its G-Unit Fuck ya clique, like sifiless bitch you stuck with this Im a loyal nigga, die behind mine Even If 50 dropped me I still wouldn't sign Either lost 'yo mind, or pumped 'yo head Tryna stop my shine, but I got bread And I ain't got time, to hear what they said When I catch them cowards Im'a bust they head [50 Cent - Chorus] I done told ya boy, Im'a soldier boy I got no choice but to be a rider I approach ya boy, with the toaster boy Get to point blank range & firrreee I aint tryna hear shit Im supposed to be rich Mother fucker get in way of my bread Then Im gone load my shit, then cock my shit Nigga trip i'll come for your head [Lloyd Banks - Verse 3] Im comin' outta Southside, you know Im raw Big ass cheque, they show I score Pull the dough out and roll out the cream Azure Fo' fo' out I know 'bout the Keizer of war Im hot, five hundred degrees or more My door'll block an M16 or more Im in the store coppin' shit you ain't seen before Black card swiping, green galore [Tony Yayo - Verse 4] Yeah yeah.. I said these niggas stop talkin' then start worryin' The FEDS keep comin', the money we buryin' Im in a loft, Im in a green Porsche I let that thing off, I turn T-Wolf I drive a spaceship nigga 2008 shit Her made kicks on, I stay in Ape shit Niggas on some hate shit, they all get hit Russian AK Haitian flag on the clip [50 Cent - Chorus] I done told ya boy, Im'a soldier boy I got no choice but to be a rider I approach ya boy, with the toaster boy Get to point blank range & firrreee I aint tryna hear shit Im supposed to be rich Mother fucker get in way of my bread Then Im gone load my shit, then cock my shit Nigga Trip i'll come for your head |
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from Joe - And Then (2004)
[Joe]
Everybody say ride wit u, ride wit u, yea its [50 Cent] 50 cent, yea and lloyd banks, yea, and young Buck, yea, and joe. G-Unit! [Lloyd Banks] Baby were gonna rock 'n' roll, with joe to the cover we'll still hit the blocks and i'm sold with you can you picture, me and you none of your friends, no crew we gonna do whatever you wanna do i'll take ya mind off whatever you goin through just sit back and relax to the sound of the sax i'm hood but that dont mean i ride around with the rats i work and make ya lose a couple pounds in the sack [Joe] Look at what we got right here such a work of art someone i'll give my heart to any thing, its what i'll do just so that she would be mine, i give her all my time, every part of me my mind, soul, and my body what's up? [Chorus] Ride with ya, ride with ya, i wanna move with ya, move with ya, move with ya, i wanna ride with ya, ride with ya, ride with ya, i wanna move with ya, move with ya, move with ya, i wanna ride [Joe] The type that just dont care if its you i want im gon' come and get you and see whats really good with you please believe i'll take you there but first lets see if your intellectual matches up with your physical baby [Chorus] [Young Buck] Come on and ride with a thug we can do what you like a baller baby you see the blue in my ice drop the top and let your hair blow back them j.lo jeans girl that ass so fat Buck know just what to do with all that chest to chest so ill hit it from the back i do it like a pro, wont nobody kno lets pop some more ride and listen to joe [Joe x2] I just want to let u kno that, that ooo your so beautiful (your so beautiful) and that Nothings impossible the places that we can go (we can go anywhere baby) [Chorus x2] [Joe x2] I just want to let you know that, that ooo your so beautiful (your so beautiful) and that Nothings impossible the places that we can go (we can go anywhere baby) [Chorus x2] |
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from Joe - And Then... (2005)
[Joe]
Everybody say ride wit u, ride wit u, yea its [50 Cent] 50 cent, yea and lloyd banks, yea, and young Buck, yea, and joe. G-Unit! [Lloyd Banks] Baby were gonna rock 'n' roll, with joe to the cover we'll still hit the blocks and i'm sold with you can you picture, me and you none of your friends, no crew we gonna do whatever you wanna do i'll take ya mind off whatever you goin through just sit back and relax to the sound of the sax i'm hood but that dont mean i ride around with the rats i work and make ya lose a couple pounds in the sack [Joe] Look at what we got right here such a work of art someone i'll give my heart to any thing, its what i'll do just so that she would be mine, i give her all my time, every part of me my mind, soul, and my body what's up? [Chorus] Ride with ya, ride with ya, i wanna move with ya, move with ya, move with ya, i wanna ride with ya, ride with ya, ride with ya, i wanna move with ya, move with ya, move with ya, i wanna ride [Joe] The type that just dont care if its you i want im gon' come and get you and see whats really good with you please believe i'll take you there but first lets see if your intellectual matches up with your physical baby [Chorus] [Young Buck] Come on and ride with a thug we can do what you like a baller baby you see the blue in my ice drop the top and let your hair blow back them j.lo jeans girl that ass so fat Buck know just what to do with all that chest to chest so ill hit it from the back i do it like a pro, wont nobody kno lets pop some more ride and listen to joe [Joe x2] I just want to let u kno that, that ooo your so beautiful (your so beautiful) and that Nothings impossible the places that we can go (we can go anywhere baby) [Chorus x2] [Joe x2] I just want to let you know that, that ooo your so beautiful (your so beautiful) and that Nothings impossible the places that we can go (we can go anywhere baby) [Chorus x2] |
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6:31 |
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from Joe Budden - Mood Muzik 4 (2010)
[Fabolous]
These n-ggas losing their minds You find that theres no reward They say they already home It's really clear they abroad They sound like they boxed in It's not just where they record There's a cost to be the boss they can't clearly afford Swear to the Lord, theres guns like the audience You put on a show, my 40 clearly applauds Sittin' fifth row, I might appear to be bored Plotting on a Kanye, but screaming where's my award Ballin out of control, never won an ESPY Bout to buy a black ghost and call that sh-t SP Flow outta this World, I'm coming for my Moon man You n-ggas slide back like that walkin on the moon dance No glitter glean, handgun with a beam Have some boys follow you, street fam, twitter team Like you could f-ck with me Oh did it seem, Dr King and Def Jam aint the only ones with a dream I'm a grown ass man, this kid a teen You're a spoof of me like if hip hop did a scream Audi coupe looking good so I went and copped it Got that TT poppin' like a trending topic My ride is matte black My pride is that jack It might get ya dog shot, even a cat smacked Anyway though, styles don't apply to me Jeff Goldblum couldn't be more fly to me Shorty say right after the suck f-ck proof You hit it on the head girl, duck duck goose You shoulda got the message that I chuck up deuce Break em off and leave it You seen my f-cked up tooth It's f-cka bitch, there's more fish in the aquarium I rarely hear no, like when n-ggas ask you to marry them There's no lights in the place you buy your jewelry from Funeral fab, I'm just here to bury them [Joe Budden] Reporting live from the beacon Booth tired from the beatin Had foreplay all day Prepin' the beatin' the mic for a threesome With my vocal's bi-coastal, speakin til their eyes totaled Mr wi-fi, out a franchise go to Magic, standby local's Watch the track bust once I show my dick size to the pro-tools I teach you how to have models screaming get behind me E-pills and maybach's aint gon matter if your tip is tiny Nevermind me, we could get knee deep in the beef Seek me with the heat but you'll need more to keep me on a leash Here's a cc for the peeps that wanna see me in the streets Invest in Rockports and be easy on your feet Give a few hammers, a few semi's and a few snubs to a few crips, Couple vampire's and true bloods Gambling in casino's, have a hundred handing me my c-notes The modern day gambino I'm careful every step I take You the n-gga walk up in a shootout with some pepperspray That'd be the last mistake you ever make Me I chop his head off from a rooftop And race it downstairs just to see if I can catch his fade Like groceries when I'm shooting at fags Make sure the breads separated and put the fruits in a bag Withstand the hatred Dudes is falling off doing all they can to save it But everybodys run stops ask Brandon Jacobs What y'all call swag to me is all faggotry Fours want blatt at me that'd equal more casualties Abort the strategy Or get attacked with that Duracell they put in your back Now thats assault and battery You can keep the b-tching to yourself There's beams on every burner These lasers, a petition wouldn't help! What good is having shooters if they the type that miss? Where I'm from, better be careful when you drive that whip N-ggas put they life at risk for pies that flip In my town Ben Affleck wouldnt try that sh-t And if he did he'd get turned around burnt down Tell 'em new jacks it'll be a while fore they eligible to earn the crown [Lloyd Banks] Acid out the baggie This is more than dope Flawless flow F-cking off a sign every horoscope to wore my robes Strappin up the corner cold, critical Unquestioned, my opponents know I shoot like capono, watch me own the show Chromatose, toasted, getting money while I roam the coast Stones and boats, mansions, homes, and hopes I deserve 'em both, overdose Time to earn my votes, watch me turn the volts Voltage through a hater, this electric chair, danger Yeah, I see ya Now make way fore it turn to diarrhea Hear a microphone will give you 3 of everything I wear yeah Models by the pair, swear, bottles, private Lear, steer Style thats outta here, rare, thousands by the chair, square Sleep with me, you came here, war with me is scary Get beat silly tryna lamp here, better bring your theory heat I got a drop damp here, n-ggas try me barely No one breathes, I need an ants ear, precious necessary Got my mind on the cheddar kill my haters together Bury em in abundance and starve there family's stomach's Paper come in my thumbage, brand new fifties and hundreds On point, just like the drum is I'm warning them baby mothers Got the hunger of a broke rapper Kill you while I'm rollin up then smoke after Catch you at your show, snatch ya, empty out the dough faster Bentley off the scene, magnum Mo splasher, four packer Southside n-gga spittin coke at ya! [Royce Da 5'9"] This is for the fronters and the naysayers I'm about to scare away the drummers and the bass players They say I'm out of my league on this one So when I get done I want you to cut your f-ckin ears off, Twitpic 'em! Lord, I want you to leave this vicinity You gon be around here bout long as Justin Bieber's virginity This is Jesus identity, mixed with weed Hennessey, kennedy, king Mixed with a kill or be killed, killer regime Ill as you seen, switch Y'all write all that hard sh-t then you fall right off, it's horrible My oracle is all I offer, so before I borrow You won't be here tomorrow flow Sorry, I will probably Adios my body with somebody toast This sh-t just practice Sickest rapping Baptist Kill your pastor, steal your chapstick After that make you kiss a cactus Then, take your hoe, make the hoe give the whole clique fellatio Everyone, that wasn't the whole entourage on HBO Then after that, I tell her, I can't do much with you, shawty! I just found out I could fly to Dubai and hire buffy the body! Dont call us if the bitches ain't flawless If they are then we can hang like Aretha Franklin bra-less The drunk me can box like the sober you The sober me be more nervous than Waka Flocka in the voting booth We beef like being deep and dumping K's You beef like Lady Gaga and her stylist Y'all get together to look good in front of a bunch of gays My feng shui is a pump in the desert You'll come up shorter than an Asian jumping out of a trunk in the desert While my wolfpack looks for strippers and cocaine N-ggas snitching, it's a shame We call em male tattlers Fiends touching they noses more than URL battlers It's hard to spit saliva when you spit fire So I'll just pour sugar in your gas tank Put a banana in your tailpipe Ah ha, so the car can fit the driver |
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3:39 |
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from G-Unit - T.O.S. (Terminate On Sight) (2008)
[Lloyd Banks]
My rope all freezy, dope on the TV Ecstasy especially out the GT You next to me, you best to be holdin somethin too Least you can say, you let somethin fly when somethin flew These niggaz get hit and call they lawyer And try to sue you, that's a bitch nigga for ya I'm tough like Mayoga, and De La Hoya, I saw ya Man niggaz'll stack nines for that Cola Cause zips in my shit, I don't grow stems Him got 14 karats, carrots, and gold rims Why say somethin about my name? Don't jump out the window, it's safer jumpin out a plane I can't ditch my bitch, it's somethin 'bout her brain If she put her mind to it she could suck out a vein You don't want a lead shower stay the fuck out the rain There's so much ammo niggaz don't gotta aim [Chorus: Lloyd Banks] You don't get a warnin, there's no heads up when it's on Here it comes, ready or not Don't be out there snorin, one eye blink and you're gone Keep it cocked - and ready to pop The man makes no mistakes, it's been on since the day I was born Stop drop, or get lead in your knot I'm known in hip-hop, but I'm still ridin around with my chrome Here it comes - ready or not [Tony Yayo] Yeah, yeah My little shooter's 16 from the projects Glock-16 with the Napoleon complex I'm in and out the projects, my lifestyle pleasant You? You live life like a barbaric peasant Me without my gun in the streets is like a Muslim eatin pig feet Fuck the pigs on the street They all wanna off a nigga - and when these rappers Get shot they ain't gangsta, they turn into corporate niggaz You die if it's rated R If it's PG-13 you leave with a scar R.I.P. to Troy and Bags, big shout to Hommo They got fishin money cooked, buy me the Apollo These model hoes swallow, I buy another bottle Of this M.O.B. nigga, that's my motto These rappers ain't kings, they pawns And got dust bunnies on they guns [Chorus] [Lloyd Banks] I think God spent a lil' extra time on me Pop planted a miracle seed my mom ain't see I got a high intelligence level, I ain't no dummy I ain't satisfied with 10 mil', that ain't no money My talents are blood deep, you can't take those from me And my sense of humor's shot, I don't take jokes funny My paranoia rolls with my bullet holes Givin me a third eye, my foes can get a magazine full of those The hip-hop cops follow my Suburban Hopin they can find a pistol on him when they search him I'm icier in person, they like me when I'm cursin So here's a dirty version, you only heard me urban If niggaz try to hurt him, the I-30's squirtin Right through your curtain, don't stop 'til you murk him Mechanical workin, Hechler handle's jerkin That'll pull the Gate in after you Heavenly church him [Chorus] |
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3:39 |
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from G-Unit - T.O.S. (Terminate On Sight) (2008)
[Lloyd Banks]
My rope all freezy, dope on the TV Ecstasy especially out the GT You next to me, you best to be holdin somethin too Least you can say, you let somethin fly when somethin flew These niggaz get hit and call they lawyer And try to sue you, that's a bitch nigga for ya I'm tough like Mayoga, and De La Hoya, I saw ya Man niggaz'll stack nines for that Cola Cause zips in my shit, I don't grow stems Him got 14 karats, carrots, and gold rims Why say somethin about my name? Don't jump out the window, it's safer jumpin out a plane I can't ditch my bitch, it's somethin 'bout her brain If she put her mind to it she could suck out a vein You don't want a lead shower stay the fuck out the rain There's so much ammo niggaz don't gotta aim [Chorus: Lloyd Banks] You don't get a warnin, there's no heads up when it's on Here it comes, ready or not Don't be out there snorin, one eye blink and you're gone Keep it cocked - and ready to pop The man makes no mistakes, it's been on since the day I was born Stop drop, or get lead in your knot I'm known in hip-hop, but I'm still ridin around with my chrome Here it comes - ready or not [Tony Yayo] Yeah, yeah My little shooter's 16 from the projects Glock-16 with the Napoleon complex I'm in and out the projects, my lifestyle pleasant You? You live life like a barbaric peasant Me without my gun in the streets is like a Muslim eatin pig feet Fuck the pigs on the street They all wanna off a nigga - and when these rappers Get shot they ain't gangsta, they turn into corporate niggaz You die if it's rated R If it's PG-13 you leave with a scar R.I.P. to Troy and Bags, big shout to Hommo They got fishin money cooked, buy me the Apollo These model hoes swallow, I buy another bottle Of this M.O.B. nigga, that's my motto These rappers ain't kings, they pawns And got dust bunnies on they guns [Chorus] [Lloyd Banks] I think God spent a lil' extra time on me Pop planted a miracle seed my mom ain't see I got a high intelligence level, I ain't no dummy I ain't satisfied with 10 mil', that ain't no money My talents are blood deep, you can't take those from me And my sense of humor's shot, I don't take jokes funny My paranoia rolls with my bullet holes Givin me a third eye, my foes can get a magazine full of those The hip-hop cops follow my Suburban Hopin they can find a pistol on him when they search him I'm icier in person, they like me when I'm cursin So here's a dirty version, you only heard me urban If niggaz try to hurt him, the I-30's squirtin Right through your curtain, don't stop 'til you murk him Mechanical workin, Hechler handle's jerkin That'll pull the Gate in after you Heavenly church him [Chorus] |
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4:01 |
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from G-Unit - Beg For Mercy (2003)
[Chorus] (50 Cent)
Every hood we go through All the gangstas around know my whole crew We hold it down like we supposed to Nigga you can front if you want, we be poppin’ them thangs Every hood we go through All the gangstas around know my whole crew We hold it down like we supposed to Nigga you can front if you want, we be poppin’ them thangs [Verse 1] (50 Cent) After the VMAs my baby momma cuss my ass out. I kicked her ass we back friends like Puffy and Steve Stout Cut the grass around my clique so I could see these sneaks You see back in the hood it’s cuz I see they fake I preach a sermon about the paper like I’m cut flow a dollar I’ll pop you punk niggaz like I pop my collar I’m confused, I like Megan, Monica, and Mya Missy’s freaky and Brandy’s shy, uh Now take a look at how my lifestyle changed up I’m on now, god damn it I done came up Now you could find me with the finest hoes Choosin’ which whip to drive by what match my clothes I got a fetish for the stones, heavy on the ice man If I ain’t gotta pistol on me, sure I gotta knife man Get outta line and I’m lightin’ your ass up Semi-automatic spray, I’ll tighten your ass up [Chorus] (50 Cent) Every hood we go through All the gangstas around know my whole crew We hold it down like we supposed to Nigga you can front if you want, we be poppin’ them thangs Every hood we go through All the gangstas around know my whole crew We hold it down like we supposed to Nigga you can front if you want, we be poppin’ them thangs [Verse 2] (Lloyd Banks) Slow down little nigga Don’t exceed your speed Cuz I will put g's on they fitted like the Negro league I got connects so I don’t need no weed I’ve been in LA for a year now So I don’t see no seeds After I’m done you clappin’ the crew Hell yeah, I fuck fans Guess what your favorite rapper does too In a minute I’ma have the Jew to makin’ my rims spin My crew run wild at the Jamaica’s at Kingston Nothin’ but bling bling in ya face boy That’s why my knicks shine like one of them shirts Puffy and Mase wore I done find a nympho as soon as I pop a bra She had my balls head first just like a soccer star You can only stand next to the man if you proper Ya'll take care of birds like a animal doctor Been out and I’m buzzin’ niggas just slept on me So I’m out for revenge like one of bin laden's cousins [Chorus] (50 Cent) Every hood we go through All the gangstas around know my whole crew We hold it down like we supposed to Nigga you can front if you want, we be poppin’ them thangs Every hood we go through All the gangstas around know my whole crew We hold it down like we supposed to Nigga you can front if you want, we be poppin’ them thangs [Verse 2] (Young Buck) Read the paper, look at the news We one the front page Yeah we in the Bahamas with AK's on the stage The ice and the Jacob watch make a broke nigga take somethin’ So I gotta keep the four fifth with no safety button G-Unit getting’ money I know some artists is starvin’ But play the game like they rich to me this shit funny I know you see me comin’ Cuz on the front of the Maybach It say payback for those who hated on me I hate when niggas claim they bangin’ a gang You ain't no crip like snoop You ain't no blood like gang See I’ve been having beef I have my own bullet proof vest Most of my enemies dead I got about two left Until my last breath I’m sendin’ niggas bullet holes Innocent bystanders get hit tryin’ to be heroes You know how we roll Every where that we go It’s fo’ fos’, calicos, and desert eagles [Chorus] (50 Cent) Every hood we go through All the gangstas around know my whole crew We hold it down like we supposed to Nigga you can front if you want, we be poppin’ them thangs Every hood we go through All the gangstas around know my whole crew We hold it down like we supposed to Nigga you can front if you want, we be poppin’ them t" |
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3:44 |
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from Lloyd Banks - Rotten Apple (2006)
Uh, two figures up, yup, Henny in my cup, yup
Semi in the cut, yup, a very nice truck, yup I'm all iced up, yup, pocket k***** up, yup I knock your wife up, yup, man, I don't give a f***, nah The Unit's in this b****, yeah , you know who I'm with, yeah Rolling out the piff, yeah, six after six, yeah Hangin' out the whips rocks dangling off my wrist, yeah I'm a ball till I die, why? 'Cause I'm a Play be O why Guess who's the man this quarter, the rich playing the boarder Your papers much shorter, my safe is this big Not from New York to Georgia, they recognize the slaughter Diamonds around the boarder, a platin' 'em ice pick We in them Lambs the color of Candy Yams The only n****z in the city with Miami tints I picked up my advance and took off out to France Thousand dollar pants and hundred thousand dollar hands Mummy I don't dance, I rock, I bop I half a ounce of s***** in my sock, I'm hot If I like it I'm a cop it on the spot, why not? These haters still won't give me my props, I'm shocked I do it for the concrete, the curb, the block All I got is the street, my word, my c*** These little n****z emulating' me know why? Know why, know why? 'Cause I'm a Play be O why Uh, two figures up, yup, Henny in my cup, yup Semi in the cut, yup, a very nice truck, yup I'm all iced up, yup, pocket k***** up, yup I knock your wife up, yup, man I don't give a f***, nah The Unit's in this b****, yeah, you know who I'm with, yeah Rolling out the piff, yeah, six after six, yeah Hanging out the whips rocks dangling off my wrist, yeah I'm a ball till I die, why? 'Cause I'm a Play be O why Hey, pull up in a Benz, hoodie and my Timbs Hologram rims, a lot of Benjamin's I shop till I drop, I stunt when I want Rollin' b**** after b****, blowin' be'emp out the trunk Now I can take a s*** on all of y'all, d'emp after d'emp I'm high and I'm drunk, havin' lunch at the trunk Don't front and get to rockin', and my click is popping Now my hits is dropping that's why the chickens flocking I ain't a come up, I got the Louis black Hydraulics on the 'Lac, I pop and whoolie that Now we got enough toys to knock the city back Beef and broccoli fitted cap, he's the rockiest in rap They copyin' my moves I cruise on twenty-two's Big pools, money and jewels, that's all I never do is The illest never one at a time, just by the two's And ooh, you should see what my song make them do Uh, two figures up, yup, Henny in my cup, yup Semi in the cut, yup, a very nice truck, yup I'm all iced up, yup, pocket k***** up, yup I knock your wife up, yup, man I don't give a f***, nah The Unit's in this b****, yeah, you know who I'm with, yeah Rolling out the piff, yeah, six after six, yeah Hanging out the whips rocks dangling off my wrist, yeah I'm a ball till I die, why? 'Cause I'm a Play be O why If you come from the bottom put your hands up The hood f*** up the rap then put your hands up You and your click get it popping' put your hands up And if you front I'm leaving' out of there in handcuffs Now put 'em up, put 'em up Put 'em up, put 'em up Put 'em up, put 'em up Yeah, man I don't give a f*** what you said Now put 'em up, put 'em up Put 'em up, put 'em up Put 'em up, put 'em up |
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4:32 |
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from Lloyd Banks - The Hunger For More (2004)
[Verse One]
Guess who's the man this winter, straight out the land of sinners The Range is tan with spinners, check out the white mirrors Blow with the damn winners while you and your man's finished Two in your Rams fitteds, turn off your lightswitch Holdin my torch down, even when the force 'round You let your wife roam, she want a divorce now You niggaz ain't this gully, play it I paint your skully You never take this from me the riders and all the gangsters love me You shouldn't be a problem, I ain't be a problem See you later I'll red your head, you'll be a Rodman I know your type, hoppin all over beat screamin You call it hypin yourself up, I call it street dreamin I do it for all the haters, the players roll with the gators They lookin forward to favors, gossip is all they gave us You niggaz wasn't quiet, meet the whales and the fishes You leak the precinct up, play tattletale with the snitches Even my momma knows, I got all kind of hoes They wait outside of shows strict after the diner close I'll get designer clothes, without the wine or rose Take off my baby blue mink, and Carolina vogues come here, take a look inside a entertainer's closet I never trust a bitch, I blame Lorena Bobbitt Niggaz stay in pocket, I know you're mad at me But shit ain't all peaches and cream, and I ain't Sara Lee Bitch! [Chorus] Don't ice me, you starin at the wrong one It's a lot of girls here, go and get a grown one We at the bar poppin bottles 'til they all gone If you ain't leavin here with us, you can walk home Cause someone else will, they know how we ride If you a playboy, you got one on the Eastside Keep your mouth closed, we don't let the beef ride .. (what) right .. (what) right .. (what) right .. (right, damn!) (Let's go) [Verse Two] I do this for the hood, niggaz stuck in the slammer I smile cause I'm good, you act tough for the camera Run from the lil' kids, they fuckin with Santa Cause they like 2Pac more - word? Word to my grandma I figure I might as well leave here with my glock drawn Cause they'll take to jail, even when you're not wrong Dawg you're not this flashy, jux you got to blast me Every rock is classy nobody on your block can match me You shouldn't want a fight, unless you want to fight for your life in the hospital a hundred nights I know your type, run behind your girl rushin You call it quality time, I call it handcuffin I'm on a beach in Miami, so you ain't reachin my family All weekend with panties from Puetro Rican Cammie You niggaz wasn't tough, I shoulda snapped two flicks You wore your pants tight, played pitty-pat with the chicks Even my father knows, where the revolver goes I bring the beef to your front door like dominoes And my diamonds froze, that mean my time is froze Me in the club from when it's poppin 'til the time it close Half of these so-called real niggaz'll probably sing Nah I ain't pullin over, learned that from Rodney King So tell your homey chill, you know I hold the steel Everything be jabs and hooks, and you ain't Holyfield Nigga! [Chorus] Everybody on the left get yo' hands up Everybody on the right get yo' hands up Everybody up front get yo' hands up And everybody out back get yo' hands up And if you in here with a strap get yo' hands up Now put 'em up! (Put 'em up!) Now put 'em up! (Put 'em up!) Now put 'em up! (Put 'em up!) Now put 'em up! (Put 'em up!) Now put 'em up! (Put 'em up!) Now put 'em up! (Put 'em up!) ... man fuck what he said man, put 'em up! Now put 'em up! (Put 'em up!) Now put 'em up! (Put 'em up!) Now put 'em up! (Put 'em up!) Now put 'em up! (Put 'em up!) Now put 'em up! (Put 'em up!) Now put 'em up! (Put 'em up!) ... ohhh-OHH! Lloyd Banks, what? Oooooooooooooh! |
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4:32 |
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from Lloyd Banks - The Hunger For More (2004)
[Verse One]
Guess who's the man this winter, straight out the land of sinners The Range is tan with spinners, check out the white mirrors Blow with the damn winners while you and your man's finished Two in your Rams fitteds, turn off your lightswitch Holdin my torch down, even when the force 'round You let your wife roam, she want a divorce now You niggaz ain't this gully, play it I paint your skully You never take this from me the riders and all the gangsters love me You shouldn't be a problem, I ain't be a problem See you later I'll red your head, you'll be a Rodman I know your type, hoppin all over beat screamin You call it hypin yourself up, I call it street dreamin I do it for all the haters, the players roll with the gators They lookin forward to favors, gossip is all they gave us You niggaz wasn't quiet, meet the whales and the fishes You leak the precinct up, play tattletale with the snitches Even my momma knows, I got all kind of hoes They wait outside of shows strict after the diner close I'll get designer clothes, without the wine or rose Take off my baby blue mink, and Carolina vogues come here, take a look inside a entertainer's closet I never trust a bitch, I blame Lorena Bobbitt Niggaz stay in pocket, I know you're mad at me But shit ain't all peaches and cream, and I ain't Sara Lee Bitch! [Chorus] Don't ice me, you starin at the wrong one It's a lot of girls here, go and get a grown one We at the bar poppin bottles 'til they all gone If you ain't leavin here with us, you can walk home Cause someone else will, they know how we ride If you a playboy, you got one on the Eastside Keep your mouth closed, we don't let the beef ride .. (what) right .. (what) right .. (what) right .. (right, damn!) (Let's go) [Verse Two] I do this for the hood, niggaz stuck in the slammer I smile cause I'm good, you act tough for the camera Run from the lil' kids, they fuckin with Santa Cause they like 2Pac more - word? Word to my grandma I figure I might as well leave here with my glock drawn Cause they'll take to jail, even when you're not wrong Dawg you're not this flashy, jux you got to blast me Every rock is classy nobody on your block can match me You shouldn't want a fight, unless you want to fight for your life in the hospital a hundred nights I know your type, run behind your girl rushin You call it quality time, I call it handcuffin I'm on a beach in Miami, so you ain't reachin my family All weekend with panties from Puetro Rican Cammie You niggaz wasn't tough, I shoulda snapped two flicks You wore your pants tight, played pitty-pat with the chicks Even my father knows, where the revolver goes I bring the beef to your front door like dominoes And my diamonds froze, that mean my time is froze Me in the club from when it's poppin 'til the time it close Half of these so-called real niggaz'll probably sing Nah I ain't pullin over, learned that from Rodney King So tell your homey chill, you know I hold the steel Everything be jabs and hooks, and you ain't Holyfield Nigga! [Chorus] Everybody on the left get yo' hands up Everybody on the right get yo' hands up Everybody up front get yo' hands up And everybody out back get yo' hands up And if you in here with a strap get yo' hands up Now put 'em up! (Put 'em up!) Now put 'em up! (Put 'em up!) Now put 'em up! (Put 'em up!) Now put 'em up! (Put 'em up!) Now put 'em up! (Put 'em up!) Now put 'em up! (Put 'em up!) ... man fuck what he said man, put 'em up! Now put 'em up! (Put 'em up!) Now put 'em up! (Put 'em up!) Now put 'em up! (Put 'em up!) Now put 'em up! (Put 'em up!) Now put 'em up! (Put 'em up!) Now put 'em up! (Put 'em up!) ... ohhh-OHH! Lloyd Banks, what? Oooooooooooooh! |
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3:21 |
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from G-Unit - T.O.S. (Terminate On Sight) (2008)
*featuring Young Buck
[50 Cent:] I'm a work of art A ghetto version of Mozart Yeah... haha [Chorus: 50 Cent] I move the keys, they call me the piano man I'm classically trained nobody do it better man I do my thang with me and my beretta man I got that girl you want her come and get her man [Hook x4: 50 Cent] Call me the piano man [Verse 1: Tony Yayo] Cartier glasses Cartier belt, Cartier watch tell me time somewhere else. Like Germany Sweden and Serbia, nigga one or two birds and I'm servin ya. I'm a ball like Julius Erving Iverson and Manning, I got that cannon in that two door phantom. Nigga hundred EX shit suicide doors, Get a top or low fade now the body lookin hard. This snake ass niggas is reptiles, Til I shoot em up and fill em up with projectiles. Yay' got the best styles Yay' got the best clothes, Yay' got the best weed Yay' got the best hoes. (Yeah!) [Chorus] [Hook x4] [Verse 2: Lloyd Banks] Yeah Fresh out the rimshot my wheels tick-tock, My steel six shot the paint flip flop. My charm truckie that's why they wanna fuck me, 207 McLaren body like Bucky. Old head get rusty and I'm a can of oil, And if hip hop do die a 100 grand'll boil. Show up at your bougie event give your body harm, Slide you all over the stage like Omarion. Don't need a party calm on the pepsi and bacardi bomb, Bail ain't nothin I make a Gotti bond. Magician I can make a dollar flip, Stick a whole Corona bottle in a model chick. [Chorus] [Hook x4] [Verse 3: Young Buck] I'm richer than a muhfucka ridin in a dirty ass phantom, We kill undercovers down here we can't stand em. Fill up the door panels and stuff the floor boards, I can fit a hundred in a Honda Accord. Blood of a drug lord brain of a baller, Hand of a hustler I'm all about a dollar. Everybodies a customer nobodies a friend, Somebodies gotta do it anybody can win. If I did it then I can do it now, When we get em in we can ship em out. A Gucci briefcase dressed in a suit and tie, Cartier's you can tell that I. [Chorus] [Hook x4] |
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3:21 |
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from G-Unit - T.O.S. (Terminate On Sight) (2008)
*featuring Young Buck
[50 Cent:] I'm a work of art A ghetto version of Mozart Yeah... haha [Chorus: 50 Cent] I move the keys, they call me the piano man I'm classically trained nobody do it better man I do my thang with me and my beretta man I got that girl you want her come and get her man [Hook x4: 50 Cent] Call me the piano man [Verse 1: Tony Yayo] Cartier glasses Cartier belt, Cartier watch tell me time somewhere else. Like Germany Sweden and Serbia, nigga one or two birds and I'm servin ya. I'm a ball like Julius Erving Iverson and Manning, I got that cannon in that two door phantom. Nigga hundred EX shit suicide doors, Get a top or low fade now the body lookin hard. This snake ass niggas is reptiles, Til I shoot em up and fill em up with projectiles. Yay' got the best styles Yay' got the best clothes, Yay' got the best weed Yay' got the best hoes. (Yeah!) [Chorus] [Hook x4] [Verse 2: Lloyd Banks] Yeah Fresh out the rimshot my wheels tick-tock, My steel six shot the paint flip flop. My charm truckie that's why they wanna fuck me, 207 McLaren body like Bucky. Old head get rusty and I'm a can of oil, And if hip hop do die a 100 grand'll boil. Show up at your bougie event give your body harm, Slide you all over the stage like Omarion. Don't need a party calm on the pepsi and bacardi bomb, Bail ain't nothin I make a Gotti bond. Magician I can make a dollar flip, Stick a whole Corona bottle in a model chick. [Chorus] [Hook x4] [Verse 3: Young Buck] I'm richer than a muhfucka ridin in a dirty ass phantom, We kill undercovers down here we can't stand em. Fill up the door panels and stuff the floor boards, I can fit a hundred in a Honda Accord. Blood of a drug lord brain of a baller, Hand of a hustler I'm all about a dollar. Everybodies a customer nobodies a friend, Somebodies gotta do it anybody can win. If I did it then I can do it now, When we get em in we can ship em out. A Gucci briefcase dressed in a suit and tie, Cartier's you can tell that I. [Chorus] [Hook x4] |
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3:30 |
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from G-Unit - T.O.S. (Terminate On Sight) (2008)
(feat. Young Buck)
[50 Cent:] This is the Unit The mighty mighty mighty Unit This is how we do it Ayy (ayy, ayy) I make the airline and pop to it, N.Y. bop to it No frontin here shorty, niggaz know how I do it For the paper let the gat pop, jackpot Find me trippin, ridin slow through the back blocks Red Coupe switchin lanes, top down, party frame Diamond rangs, diamond chains, diamonds on e'rythang Mo' flows, mo' dough, money come, money go New straps, new clip, stack chips, don't trip Play playa, go hard, stunt nigga, oh God Party ain't never over, niggaz hardly ever sober Different day, same shit, different city, different chick Show you how I do this shit, you notice how I do it kid [Tony Yayo:] Bitches recognize when I'm walkin in Smokin that piff, goin where dolphins swim 44-Colt, that's tossin him And that four-do' car is what I'm flossin in (YEAH!) I'm in the black, you in the red You owe your label money, I'm gettin bread Can you feel it, feel it? Nothin can save ya In my purple tag Polo and neon Gators (break it down now!) Bitch play cute, I don't get upset 'Til her ass get a facial and a washin set I'm in a private jet, but before the deal Hoes was like, "He's all right, but he's not I'll! " [Chorus: 50 Cent] You might see me yawnin, four in the mornin But the party ain't over Then it's back to the crib, to cut shorty that's how we on it The party ain't over Shorty move like you wanna move, work it shorty Gon' do what you wan' do, twerk it for me Now get low, shorty work that back Now get low, yeah just like that Now get low [Lloyd Banks:] Yeah, they love it when I pop round, doors up, top down Seat back, keep that, motherfuckin glock round Nigga this is my town, my block, my crown My sound, peace to my niggaz on lockdown They don't really want that, they know we get it poppin Six-four droppin, you still window shoppin I'm ridin round rockin, knockin, Rakim Slick Rick, Rick James; big stack, big chains I'm so sicker, the flow liquor, you're broke nigga I toast with'cha - if ya got a cup Hold your fuckin bottle up, I really want a model but You can get behind the truck, if you swallow nut I'm just playin, unless you gon' do it You put your back into it, the rest is all fluid Don't pull that thing out unless you gon' use it Ain't nobody bleedin, I guess it's all music [Young Buck:] Shawty the kush still burnin, Aston Martin wheel turnin Higher than Mount Vernon, the passenger she German Bottles is still poppin, clubs is still rockin Feds is still watchin, but fiends is still shoppin I got vitamin water money like I signed a deal How would you feel if you niggaz just got 400 mil' (like me) My bad bitch do her thang in her Vera Wang She let me have a brain, I let her wear my chain I'm on the plane smokin on that Mary Jane Listenin to Trina while she run game on Lil' Wayne My Ten-a-ki' timepiece shinin like a light bulb David Brown t-shirt, dressed just like a thug [Chorus] |
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3:30 |
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from G-Unit - T.O.S. (Terminate On Sight) (2008)
(feat. Young Buck)
[50 Cent:] This is the Unit The mighty mighty mighty Unit This is how we do it Ayy (ayy, ayy) I make the airline and pop to it, N.Y. bop to it No frontin here shorty, niggaz know how I do it For the paper let the gat pop, jackpot Find me trippin, ridin slow through the back blocks Red Coupe switchin lanes, top down, party frame Diamond rangs, diamond chains, diamonds on e'rythang Mo' flows, mo' dough, money come, money go New straps, new clip, stack chips, don't trip Play playa, go hard, stunt nigga, oh God Party ain't never over, niggaz hardly ever sober Different day, same shit, different city, different chick Show you how I do this shit, you notice how I do it kid [Tony Yayo:] Bitches recognize when I'm walkin in Smokin that piff, goin where dolphins swim 44-Colt, that's tossin him And that four-do' car is what I'm flossin in (YEAH!) I'm in the black, you in the red You owe your label money, I'm gettin bread Can you feel it, feel it? Nothin can save ya In my purple tag Polo and neon Gators (break it down now!) Bitch play cute, I don't get upset 'Til her ass get a facial and a washin set I'm in a private jet, but before the deal Hoes was like, "He's all right, but he's not I'll! " [Chorus: 50 Cent] You might see me yawnin, four in the mornin But the party ain't over Then it's back to the crib, to cut shorty that's how we on it The party ain't over Shorty move like you wanna move, work it shorty Gon' do what you wan' do, twerk it for me Now get low, shorty work that back Now get low, yeah just like that Now get low [Lloyd Banks:] Yeah, they love it when I pop round, doors up, top down Seat back, keep that, motherfuckin glock round Nigga this is my town, my block, my crown My sound, peace to my niggaz on lockdown They don't really want that, they know we get it poppin Six-four droppin, you still window shoppin I'm ridin round rockin, knockin, Rakim Slick Rick, Rick James; big stack, big chains I'm so sicker, the flow liquor, you're broke nigga I toast with'cha - if ya got a cup Hold your fuckin bottle up, I really want a model but You can get behind the truck, if you swallow nut I'm just playin, unless you gon' do it You put your back into it, the rest is all fluid Don't pull that thing out unless you gon' use it Ain't nobody bleedin, I guess it's all music [Young Buck:] Shawty the kush still burnin, Aston Martin wheel turnin Higher than Mount Vernon, the passenger she German Bottles is still poppin, clubs is still rockin Feds is still watchin, but fiends is still shoppin I got vitamin water money like I signed a deal How would you feel if you niggaz just got 400 mil' (like me) My bad bitch do her thang in her Vera Wang She let me have a brain, I let her wear my chain I'm on the plane smokin on that Mary Jane Listenin to Trina while she run game on Lil' Wayne My Ten-a-ki' timepiece shinin like a light bulb David Brown t-shirt, dressed just like a thug [Chorus] |
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3:57 |
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from Lloyd Banks - Rotten Apple (2006)
<i>[Lloyd Banks (Singer) Intro]</i>
Uh... (Oooooohhh) Uh huh... (Ooohh) Yeah... <i>[Singer]</i> I'm one night standin' My joy ride has just begun Girl I'm the one that can get the job done And not fall victim to the hit and run I'm one night standin' No breakfast in bed today Soon as day break I be on my way MIA back to JFK <i>[Lloyd Banks Verse]</i> Yeah.. Shorty damn near mine without the whip and chain bet if I don't get the ass, I'mma get the brain whether she knows or don't know what the scriptures sayin' I'm a player with a league pass, ma I get the games whether I hit her don't hit she won't forget the name (Banks!) Lloyd Banks you know the yellow nigga with the change a frozen hand on the metal when I whip the Range I'm sittin' sideways, dazed and switchin' lanes there's a 60-inch plasma in the master room and we can sleep the whole morning and fuck the way to afternoon I had a way with words since I had a half a moon and I'm tourin' the world all winter, I'll be back in June you ain't gotta handle a mop, or push back a broom there's Maids for that, this where the paper with the papers at scars are a part of my story I can't take it back maybe that's why I look at shit like that (Yeah!) <i>[Singer]</i> I'm one night standin' My joy ride has just begun Girl I'm the one that can get the job done And not fall victim to the hit and run I'm one night standin' No breakfast in bed today Soon as they ring shots I be on my way MIA back to JFK <i>[Lloyd Banks Verse]</i> Uh... And it's the same thing around the way just a lot more drama, you have to swing around the K I never got the ones I wanted just the ones that wanted me look at her, she got the vapours 'cause I'm on TV lookin' like a million dollars in that blue GT and my Reeze and my blue EV's, bitch please I have you feelin' like you hit the jackpot 'cause my backshots, equivalent to crack rock I have you hooked off, dick prank callin' you bitch going back and forth with your friends paintallin' my whip besides I done gave you the sign, you just wouldn't read it now you feelin' like Keyshia Cole and "You Should've Cheated" so fucked up, I pay it to never mind mind on my money, money keep shit together, I'm probably goin' where you drove and lookin' listenin' to the radio and half way out of Brooklyn, good lookin' <i>[Singer]</i> I'm one night standin' My joy ride has just begun Girl I'm the one that can get the job done And not fall victim to the hit and run I'm one night standin' No breakfast in bed today Soon as day break I be on my way MIA back to JFK <i>[Singer (Lloyd Banks) Outro]</i> I'm one night standin'... (You know how it goes...) I've got to leave you girl... (I be here today... Goin' tomorrow...) I'm one night standin'... (Uh!) I've got to leave you girl (Ha ha... Pick me up yeah...) I'm one night standin'... Wish I could stay... But I gotta play.... La la la laaaaa laaa laaaaaaa.... La la laaaaa... La la la laaaaa laaa laaaaaaa.... La la laaaaa... |
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3:07 |
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from Lloyd Banks - The Hunger For More (2004)
New York City
You are now rocking with the best Lloyd Banks G Unit We on fire up in here It's burning hot we on fire She'll take it off if it get too hot Up in this spot we on fire Tear the roof off this motherfucker Light the roof on fire Uh Nigga what you say We get loose in this motherfucker Light the roof on fire fire fire Now I aint putting nothing out I smoke when I wanna 26 inch chrome spokes on the Hummer This heat gon last for the whole summer Running your bitch faster then the Road Runner Rocks on my wrist rose gold under Glocks on my hip those throw thunder I'm riding Dalvins by the pier But when you stop the only thing still spinning is your ear Yeah I'm riding with that all black snub Raiders cap back all black gloves A ladies man but the boy smack thugs These record sales equal more back rubs Not to mention the boy pack clubs His impacts about as raw as crack was Now all these new artists getting wrong deals I'm only 21 sitting on mills We on fire up in here It's burning hot we on fire She'll take it off if it get too hot Up in this spot we on fire Tear the roof off this motherfucker Light the roof on fire Uh Nigga what you say We get loose in this motherfucker Light the roof on fire fire fire If you know anything about me then you know I'm a baller If I don't hit the first night I ain't gon call her I'm trying to play you trying to have my daughter But I can't blame her for what her momma taught her And I don't care bout what the next nigga bought Cause I aint putting no baguettes in her abuela I got a diamond about as clear as water And I got bread but I ain't spend a quarter So cut the games ma let's go in the back Matter fact turn your ass round back a nigga down And I aint bias when I'm riding through the town Like em small like em tall like em black like em brown She gotta be able to cum when I need her Tight ass pants little wife beater Regular chick or R&B diva Bitch say something I ain't a mind reader We on fire up in here It's burning hot we on fire She'll take it off if it get too hot Up in this spot we on fire Tear the roof off this motherfucker Light the roof on fire Uh Nigga what you say We get loose in this motherfucker Light the roof on fire fire fire |
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3:07 |
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from Lloyd Banks - The Hunger For More (2004)
New York City You are now rocking with the best Lloyd Banks G Unit We on fire up in here It's burning hot we on fire She'll take it off if it get too hot Up in this spot we on fire Tear the roof off this motherfucker Light the roof on fire Uh Nigga what you say We get loose in this motherfucker Light the roof on fire fire fire Now I aint putting nothing out I smoke when I wanna 26 inch chrome spokes on the Hummer This heat gon last for the whole summer Running your bitch faster then the Road Runner Rocks on my wrist rose gold under Glocks on my hip those throw thunder I'm riding Dalvins by the pier But when you stop the only thing still spinning is your ear Yeah I'm riding with that all black snub Raiders cap back all black gloves A ladies man but the boy smack thugs These record sales equal more back rubs Not to mention the boy pack clubs His impacts about as raw as crack was Now all these new artists getting wrong deals I'm only 21 sitting on mills We on fire up in here It's burning hot we on fire She'll take it off if it get too hot Up in this spot we on fire Tear the roof off this motherfucker Light the roof on fire Uh Nigga what you say We get loose in this motherfucker Light the roof on fire fire fire If you know anything about me then you know I'm a baller If I don't hit the first night I ain't gon call her I'm trying to play you trying to have my daughter But I can't blame her for what her momma taught her And I don't care bout what the next nigga bought Cause I aint putting no baguettes in her abuela I got a diamond about as clear as water And I got bread but I ain't spend a quarter So cut the games ma let's go in the back Matter fact turn your ass round back a nigga down And I aint bias when I'm riding through the town Like em small like em tall like em black like em brown She gotta be able to cum when I need her Tight ass pants little wife beater Regular chick or R&B diva Bitch say something I ain't a mind reader We on fire up in here It's burning hot we on fire She'll take it off if it get too hot Up in this spot we on fire Tear the roof off this motherfucker Light the roof on fire Uh Nigga what you say We get loose in this motherfucker Light the roof on fire fire fire |
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3:07 |
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from Lloyd Banks - On Fire (2004)
New York City
You are now rocking with the best Lloyd Banks G Unit We on fire up in here It's burning hot we on fire She'll take it off if it get too hot Up in this spot we on fire Tear the roof off this motherfucker Light the roof on fire Uh Nigga what you say We get loose in this motherfucker Light the roof on fire fire fire Now I aint putting nothing out I smoke when I wanna 26 inch chrome spokes on the Hummer This heat gon last for the whole summer Running your bitch faster then the Road Runner Rocks on my wrist rose gold under Glocks on my hip those throw thunder I'm riding Dalvins by the pier But when you stop the only thing still spinning is your ear Yeah I'm riding with that all black snub Raiders cap back all black gloves A ladies man but the boy smack thugs These record sales equal more back rubs Not to mention the boy pack clubs His impacts about as raw as crack was Now all these new artists getting wrong deals I'm only 21 sitting on mills We on fire up in here It's burning hot we on fire She'll take it off if it get too hot Up in this spot we on fire Tear the roof off this motherfucker Light the roof on fire Uh Nigga what you say We get loose in this motherfucker Light the roof on fire fire fire If you know anything about me then you know I'm a baller If I don't hit the first night I ain't gon call her I'm trying to play you trying to have my daughter But I can't blame her for what her momma taught her And I don't care bout what the next nigga bought Cause I aint putting no baguettes in her abuela I got a diamond about as clear as water And I got bread but I ain't spend a quarter So cut the games ma let's go in the back Matter fact turn your ass round back a nigga down And I aint bias when I'm riding through the town Like em small like em tall like em black like em brown She gotta be able to cum when I need her Tight ass pants little wife beater Regular chick or R&B diva Bitch say something I ain't a mind reader We on fire up in here It's burning hot we on fire She'll take it off if it get too hot Up in this spot we on fire Tear the roof off this motherfucker Light the roof on fire Uh Nigga what you say We get loose in this motherfucker Light the roof on fire fire fire |
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from Fantastic 4 (판타스틱 4) by John Ottman [omnibus, ost] (2005)
New York City
You are now rocking with the best Lloyd Banks G Unit We on fire up in here It's burning hot we on fire She'll take it off if it get too hot Up in this spot we on fire Tear the roof off this motherfucker Light the roof on fire Uh Nigga what you say We get loose in this motherfucker Light the roof on fire fire fire Now I aint putting nothing out I smoke when I wanna 26 inch chrome spokes on the Hummer This heat gon last for the whole summer Running your bitch faster then the Road Runner Rocks on my wrist rose gold under Glocks on my hip those throw thunder I'm riding Dalvins by the pier But when you stop the only thing still spinning is your ear Yeah I'm riding with that all black snub Raiders cap back all black gloves A ladies man but the boy smack thugs These record sales equal more back rubs Not to mention the boy pack clubs His impacts about as raw as crack was Now all these new artists getting wrong deals I'm only 21 sitting on mills We on fire up in here It's burning hot we on fire She'll take it off if it get too hot Up in this spot we on fire Tear the roof off this motherfucker Light the roof on fire Uh Nigga what you say We get loose in this motherfucker Light the roof on fire fire fire If you know anything about me then you know I'm a baller If I don't hit the first night I ain't gon call her I'm trying to play you trying to have my daughter But I can't blame her for what her momma taught her And I don't care bout what the next nigga bought Cause I aint putting no baguettes in her abuela I got a diamond about as clear as water And I got bread but I ain't spend a quarter So cut the games ma let's go in the back Matter fact turn your ass round back a nigga down And I aint bias when I'm riding through the town Like em small like em tall like em black like em brown She gotta be able to cum when I need her Tight ass pants little wife beater Regular chick or R&B diva Bitch say something I ain't a mind reader We on fire up in here It's burning hot we on fire She'll take it off if it get too hot Up in this spot we on fire Tear the roof off this motherfucker Light the roof on fire Uh Nigga what you say We get loose in this motherfucker Light the roof on fire fire fire |
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from Club Bangers (2006)
New York City
You are now rocking with the best Lloyd Banks G Unit We on fire up in here It's burning hot we on fire She'll take it off if it get too hot Up in this spot we on fire Tear the roof off this motherfucker Light the roof on fire Uh Nigga what you say We get loose in this motherfucker Light the roof on fire fire fire Now I aint putting nothing out I smoke when I wanna 26 inch chrome spokes on the Hummer This heat gon last for the whole summer Running your bitch faster then the Road Runner Rocks on my wrist rose gold under Glocks on my hip those throw thunder I'm riding Dalvins by the pier But when you stop the only thing still spinning is your ear Yeah I'm riding with that all black snub Raiders cap back all black gloves A ladies man but the boy smack thugs These record sales equal more back rubs Not to mention the boy pack clubs His impacts about as raw as crack was Now all these new artists getting wrong deals I'm only 21 sitting on mills We on fire up in here It's burning hot we on fire She'll take it off if it get too hot Up in this spot we on fire Tear the roof off this motherfucker Light the roof on fire Uh Nigga what you say We get loose in this motherfucker Light the roof on fire fire fire If you know anything about me then you know I'm a baller If I don't hit the first night I ain't gon call her I'm trying to play you trying to have my daughter But I can't blame her for what her momma taught her And I don't care bout what the next nigga bought Cause I aint putting no baguettes in her abuela I got a diamond about as clear as water And I got bread but I ain't spend a quarter So cut the games ma let's go in the back Matter fact turn your ass round back a nigga down And I aint bias when I'm riding through the town Like em small like em tall like em black like em brown She gotta be able to cum when I need her Tight ass pants little wife beater Regular chick or R&B diva Bitch say something I ain't a mind reader We on fire up in here It's burning hot we on fire She'll take it off if it get too hot Up in this spot we on fire Tear the roof off this motherfucker Light the roof on fire Uh Nigga what you say We get loose in this motherfucker Light the roof on fire fire fire |
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3:30 |
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from Lloyd Banks - Rotten Apple (2006)
Don't talk tough talker unless you walk the walk
We grimy, we dirty in New York, New York Blood spill around here and don't care about court You take a pack and bring it back, don't come up short 'Cause any day can be your day, so don't play Yay got the yay, Fame got the **, okay You scared, get the f*** out the way And pray, them G-Unit boys don't play Nah, I can't play sacs or pull a rabbit out a hat But I can c*** back and blow your blather out your back Take that, I'll show you n****z how to rap I'm c****, that's snowy white p***** on the track I told 50 I was going to take it to the top Get close and get pop like hot bacon out the pot And my goons are loony and strip you naked on the spot Ain't nobody scared in south, Jamaica but the cops And speaking' 'bout cops, you n****z better stop quelling And if I get knocked, I'll make bread on your head by the million Crawl up the ladder tattle tattle be in the building Don't talk tough talker unless you walk the walk We grimy, we dirty in New York, New York Blood spill around here and don't care about court You take a pack and bring it back, don't come up short 'Cause any day can be your day, so don't play Yay got the yay, Fame got the **, okay You scared, get the f*** out the way And pray, them G-Unit boys don't play I roll up 'cause it's a hold up, ain't nothing funny Stop smiling, it be the reason the crowd piling Don't complain and die over a chain Bang, bang, gang green neighborhood game You know me I'm slipper as them baggy sweets I throw a b**** out the crib like Jazzy Jeff All the hate is sidelining and they mad he next 'Cause I got the bunny's with them fatties, yes My ride thumping, talking s***, stunting It will be repeated thumping if my finger push the button Just for bluffing, hit for nothing You can bust him, it don't matter the vehicle's custom Don't talk tough talker unless you walk the walk We grimy, we dirty in New York, New York Blood spill around here and don't care about court You take a pack and bring it back, don't come up short 'Cause any day can be your day, so don't play Yay got the yay, Fame got the **, okay You scared, get the f*** out the way And pray, them G-Unit boys don't play I'm from New York, New York n****z die for the cheese I air your house out like a can of Fabreeze, at ease Ease up soldier, I pull up in the rover Click clack, ya whole life over Baking soda and your work they go' buy it, nope 'Cause them fiends getting tired of that dying coke I'm back baby, mad hype like a c**** baby Ask Slim Shady, my g** game crazy Don't talk tough talker unless you walk the walk We grimy, we dirty in New York, New York Blood spill around here and don't care about court You take a pack and bring it back, don't come up short 'Cause any day can be your day, so don't play Yay got the yay, Fame got the **, okay You scared, get the f*** out the way And pray, them G-Unit boys don't play |
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3:54 |
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from G-Unit - T.O.S. (Terminate On Sight) (2008)
[Chorus: Lloyd Banks (50 Cent)]
I came to get somethin, I ain't worried 'bout nothin Child of the hood, I was put here for stuntin Strap like it's legal, ridin around bumpin If you can't beat 'em don't join 'em, jump 'em, fuck 'em (I never liked these niggaz anyway) (They could drop dead, fall off a buildin today) Hey... (Nobody gon' miss you anyway) (No days off, keep the pistol e'ry day) [50 Cent:] I got the burner burner, I come to burn and burn ya Revolver turn ya, call it murder murder I ain't smilin I ain't smirkin, I ain't muh'fuckin jokin See if you think somethin sweet when your head open Cross me, force me, go 'head, line me up I found where you rest at, you grimy fuck I be out front your raggedy-ass crib on a stake-out With a pound, two clips, and Chinese take-out You make it rain, I make it lead shower You say your prayers, you in your last hour I have you pushin up daisies, the coke dump crazy You chumps amaze me, the wolves they raised me You don't like me then spray me [Chorus] |
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3:54 |
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from G-Unit - T.O.S. (Terminate On Sight) (2008)
[Chorus: Lloyd Banks (50 Cent)]
I came to get somethin, I ain't worried 'bout nothin Child of the hood, I was put here for stuntin Strap like it's legal, ridin around bumpin If you can't beat 'em don't join 'em, jump 'em, fuck 'em (I never liked these niggaz anyway) (They could drop dead, fall off a buildin today) Hey... (Nobody gon' miss you anyway) (No days off, keep the pistol e'ry day) [50 Cent:] I got the burner burner, I come to burn and burn ya Revolver turn ya, call it murder murder I ain't smilin I ain't smirkin, I ain't muh'fuckin jokin See if you think somethin sweet when your head open Cross me, force me, go 'head, line me up I found where you rest at, you grimy fuck I be out front your raggedy-ass crib on a stake-out With a pound, two clips, and Chinese take-out You make it rain, I make it lead shower You say your prayers, you in your last hour I have you pushin up daisies, the coke dump crazy You chumps amaze me, the wolves they raised me You don't like me then spray me [Chorus] |
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from Lloyd Banks - Mo`Money In The Bank (2008)
(Intro: Lloyd Banks) (50 Cent)
People! Your boy Banks is back! And this is a Timbaland track! WOO OOOH!!!! This is my house (I'll house you) bitch I run this (Girl I'll house you) This is my house (I'll house you, you in my house now) (Chorus) Lloyd Banks) (50 Cent) This is my house you 'gon do what I tell you to do When your in my house under my roof you follow my rules This is my house (Put ya hands up! Put ya put ya put ya put ya put ya hands up!) This is my house (I'll house you, girl you in my house now) (Verse 1: Lloyd Banks) Hey, your under my roof, so take off your coat, your hat and funny boots I can't tell you they names, I just know they loose Prefer mix the Cranberry and the Goose A little Armor and that's at least a hundred proof Now shorty's eyes wide from the Bentley and the Coupes She can't stop stealin so she trippin off the stoop And I'm a beware of mine no tellin the truth Let's run a menage trois and hit the booth I got a big pool and a room full of bathing suits See y'all can go swim, while I get in I'll show you how to make a million dollars with a pen I drink champagne and pop bottles when I spin I can't complain a top model's in the Benz Her wheels is shinnin like it's diamonds in the rims Just gimme a day or two I'm climbin in her friends I do what I do cause (Chorus) Lloyd Banks) (50 Cent) This is my house you 'gon do what I tell you to do When your in my house under my roof you follow my rules This is my house (Put ya hands up! Put ya put ya put ya put ya put ya hands up!) This is my house (I'll house you, girl you in my house now) (Verse 2: Lloyd Banks) Hey! Watch how you speak Cause I don't slip or squeak I got the heat If you get outta line, you'll be in the street Ambulance man tryin to cover up the leak And nobody to care if they get you in a week I rather go there split a swisher with a freak And get a lap dance while I listen to the beat She's a beauty and petite I can lift her off her feet If she gets in a spur, we don't fuck in hur I'm iced out so she don't see nothin but a blur Becareful where you rub don't get nothin on the fur You know we got them things so the drama don't occur You front cause you drunk, yo' ass gettin jumped I'm high off the funk, dro, hash and the skunk Don't make them niggaz dump yo' ass in the trunk They remembers a black mask and a pump Them niggaz should have told you (Chorus) Lloyd Banks) (50 Cent) This is my house you 'gon do what I tell you to do When your in my house under my roof you follow my rules This is my house (Put ya hands up! Put ya put ya put ya put ya put ya hands up!) This is my house (I'll house you, girl you in my house now) |
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from G-Unit - Beg For Mercy (2003)
[Chorus: 50 Cent]
My buddy, my buddy Wherever I go, he go My buddy, my buddy Can run for your life on the stick up out the window My buddy, my buddy I lay your ass out mothafucka is simple Stay in your place I recommend or say hello to my litte friend [Lloyd Banks] Everywhere I go I gotta tag along Cause my buzz gettin' strong And they mad I'm on They ride with me when I'm past the mall Don't wait for me on the bench when I'm playin' a game of basketball One sqeeze will make a bastard fall Gasp and crall You need a bulletproof vest mask and all Bring your buddy when it's time to roam (why?) Cause I got hit the last time I left mine at home My hand bling full of platinum the shine is chrome He even got closet space inside of my home He ain't never been broke he glitchless So reliable I bought him a rubber coat for Christmas Infared beam in the scope for distance The best company wouldn't proach in business He who ride with me to the end We all gotta friend And mine is a G-U-N. [Chorus: 50 Cent] My buddy gotta temper he dyin' to pop off Like Tommy did the cops had the block all locked off Take them with me to hustle stashed him in the trash can My finger tips sore for four hours I backround She meet him his destination hell or heaven Cause I only bring em out for that 187 He dont have a heart I just keep feeding him shells He get it poppin' in the hood so his name ring bell Ms. Jones stay on the third floor she call the cops on me They came I ran I had to toss my othrt little homie Niggas they all got new friends so they stay in there place kid I stay screamin' on niggaz and beatin' up base heads These niggaz sayin' doley just like they pretend Keep fuckin' around they gon say hello to my little friend. [Chorus: 50 Cent] [Young Buc] We been through it all yet we both still livin' We been in a box but we both still spittin' And when there was beef you even played your position Got under the seat until we spotted our victim At first they wouldn't listen to they heard you go off Remember it was broad daylight in the middle of New York And little did they know we was ready for war Bet that nigga wished he'd never stuck his head out the door See whenever you come out something happen on the block You the reason that nigga done stop rappin' like Pac People see you ain't run and you even say shit They just know you ain't nothin' to play wit Stay wit 16 homies and one in the hole When the first one get out the next one go To know where your headed you gotta know where you been The glock stay with me we friends till the end. [Chorus: 50 Cent] |
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4:14 |
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from G-Unit - T.O.S. (Terminate On Sight) (2008)
Money make the world go ?round
Money make the world go ?round Money make the world go ?round New York, money make the world go ?round L.A., money make the world go ?round Midwest, money make the world go ?round Down South, money make the world go ?round Southside, money make the world go ?round Some people want nothin? out of life And some people want it all Some people ain't livin? life right But fast money make God call I'm prayin? to the angels but worship the devils Yeah, a nigga rich but I'm livin? like a rebel Ridin? with my strap on, foot on the pedal Them silly beef raps, now they on another level, level I grew up on a crop side, the New York Southside Stayin? alive was no jive Standin? on the strip you get stuck like Velcro Jake jump out, you see heads and elbows Run, nigga, run, nigga, here they come, nigga Throw that pack nigga, toss that trigger Kid, I'm still in the P's, girl, I love the Audi If yo' ass pregnant, girl, leave the party My stashbox so big, it could move the shotty God, it ain't my fault if I shoot somebody I ain't in it to lose, I'm in it to win Sex, money, murder, take the safety off my sins, yeah Money make the world go ?round, you better get it Money cause hatred as soon as you get it Money make whores, money cause wars Money make the world go ?round so get yours Yeah, money make the world go ?round and I got her Buckle down, do anything for the dollar Enough bills'll make your blood spill Kill for bread, anyone will from Queens to Gun Hill I'm one man but I own more than one steel Shiny trey-pound, black 9-mil Magucci leather got me shoe crazy Quarter mil' vehicle and I'm a oops, baby And if I'm wearin? my chain it's 380 Like Fat Joe, nigga, you crazy? Man, fuck friends, this T-dot-O-dot-S Have it how you want, speed knot or pop chess Police stompin? niggaz by the twenty And shootin? by the fifty, ain't a damn thing funny Matter fact, man, I'ma do anything for the dough N.Y.'s finest with llamas and mo' Money make the world go ?round, you better get it Money cause hatred as soon as you get it Money make whores, money cause wars Money make the world go ?round so get yours Money make the world go ?round, you better get it Money cause hatred as soon as you get it Money make whores, money cause wars Money make the world go ?round so get yours ATL, money make the world go ?round Ca$hville, money make the world go ?round N.C., money make the world go ?round Bad News, money make the world go ?round I love that money, I need that money It gives me shelter, it's there when I'm hungry It feeds my kids, it fills my fridge It pays my bills and the mortgage on the crib It keeps me icy, it make hoes like me It gives me seats at the Garden next to Spike Lee It made me rich, it made me change I seen a lot of places and bought a lot of things You got me haters, you got me drama You paid for the lawyers, you paid for the llamas You make niggaz goners, you rule all the corners When somebody dies, you gotta pay the mourners, mourners Money make the world go ?round, you better get it Money cause hatred as soon as you get it Money make whores, money cause wars Money make the world go ?round so get yours Money make the world go ?round, you better get it Money cause hatred as soon as you get it Money make whores, money cause wars Money make the world go ?round so get yours Chi-Town, money make the world go ?round Oakland, money make the world go ?round Texas, money make the world go ?round Detroit, money make the world go ?round Bed-Stuy, money make the world go ?round Southside, money make the world go ?round Harlem, money make the world go ?round B-X, money make the world go ?round Staten Island, money make the world go ?round Long Island, money make the world go ?round Rhode Island, money make the world go ?round Maryland, money make the world go ?round D.C., money make the world go ?round Baltimore, money make the world go ?round Little Rock, money make the world go ?round Minnesota, money make the world go ?round Arizona, money make the world go ?round |
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4:14 |
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from G-Unit - T.O.S. (Terminate On Sight) (2008)
Money make the world go ?round
Money make the world go ?round Money make the world go ?round New York, money make the world go ?round L.A., money make the world go ?round Midwest, money make the world go ?round Down South, money make the world go ?round Southside, money make the world go ?round Some people want nothin? out of life And some people want it all Some people ain't livin? life right But fast money make God call I'm prayin? to the angels but worship the devils Yeah, a nigga rich but I'm livin? like a rebel Ridin? with my strap on, foot on the pedal Them silly beef raps, now they on another level, level I grew up on a crop side, the New York Southside Stayin? alive was no jive Standin? on the strip you get stuck like Velcro Jake jump out, you see heads and elbows Run, nigga, run, nigga, here they come, nigga Throw that pack nigga, toss that trigger Kid, I'm still in the P's, girl, I love the Audi If yo' ass pregnant, girl, leave the party My stashbox so big, it could move the shotty God, it ain't my fault if I shoot somebody I ain't in it to lose, I'm in it to win Sex, money, murder, take the safety off my sins, yeah Money make the world go ?round, you better get it Money cause hatred as soon as you get it Money make whores, money cause wars Money make the world go ?round so get yours Yeah, money make the world go ?round and I got her Buckle down, do anything for the dollar Enough bills'll make your blood spill Kill for bread, anyone will from Queens to Gun Hill I'm one man but I own more than one steel Shiny trey-pound, black 9-mil Magucci leather got me shoe crazy Quarter mil' vehicle and I'm a oops, baby And if I'm wearin? my chain it's 380 Like Fat Joe, nigga, you crazy? Man, fuck friends, this T-dot-O-dot-S Have it how you want, speed knot or pop chess Police stompin? niggaz by the twenty And shootin? by the fifty, ain't a damn thing funny Matter fact, man, I'ma do anything for the dough N.Y.'s finest with llamas and mo' Money make the world go ?round, you better get it Money cause hatred as soon as you get it Money make whores, money cause wars Money make the world go ?round so get yours Money make the world go ?round, you better get it Money cause hatred as soon as you get it Money make whores, money cause wars Money make the world go ?round so get yours ATL, money make the world go ?round Ca$hville, money make the world go ?round N.C., money make the world go ?round Bad News, money make the world go ?round I love that money, I need that money It gives me shelter, it's there when I'm hungry It feeds my kids, it fills my fridge It pays my bills and the mortgage on the crib It keeps me icy, it make hoes like me It gives me seats at the Garden next to Spike Lee It made me rich, it made me change I seen a lot of places and bought a lot of things You got me haters, you got me drama You paid for the lawyers, you paid for the llamas You make niggaz goners, you rule all the corners When somebody dies, you gotta pay the mourners, mourners Money make the world go ?round, you better get it Money cause hatred as soon as you get it Money make whores, money cause wars Money make the world go ?round so get yours Money make the world go ?round, you better get it Money cause hatred as soon as you get it Money make whores, money cause wars Money make the world go ?round so get yours Chi-Town, money make the world go ?round Oakland, money make the world go ?round Texas, money make the world go ?round Detroit, money make the world go ?round Bed-Stuy, money make the world go ?round Southside, money make the world go ?round Harlem, money make the world go ?round B-X, money make the world go ?round Staten Island, money make the world go ?round Long Island, money make the world go ?round Rhode Island, money make the world go ?round Maryland, money make the world go ?round D.C., money make the world go ?round Baltimore, money make the world go ?round Little Rock, money make the world go ?round Minnesota, money make the world go ?round Arizona, money make the world go ?round |
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| from Lloyd Banks - Mo`Money In The Bank (2008) | |||||
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4:46 |
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from Lloyd Banks - Rotten Apple (2006)
Uh
G-Yeah I'm back [Chorus] I'm a G-Unit nigga that means I don't play by the rules But I can make you move About a quarter mill on juice so I ride around with the oohs Now that'll make um move Ma, you should stay in or come to me make up your mind I lashed out too fast to take my time I got to get in position to make her mine 'cause I ain't leavin' the club without my dime You know I got my nine Think twice before you cross that line Nigga you must have lost your mind Thinkin' you can get off my shines Shorty got to shakin' and I'm waitin' to take her home It's hot as hell in here and I'm bakin' up a Patron I know a couple different ways I can make 'um bone And when I'm done with her, she'll wanna take a nigga to Rome Give me a hour I have her blowin' up my phone Like a stem to a stone she won't leave me alone Million dollar nigga I get it and show off But Doja, give ma minute with your boss, I'll fold ya New York fitted and gold cross in a Rover Holster, all over the shoulder I'm the sickest thing spittin' in N-Y Your plane ain't the same, it's different when I fly South side player play around and get shot Twenty four hours steak out on your block Don't get your views confused with Hip-Hop 'fore you wind up on the news, now watch the hit drop [Chorus] Yeah From what I hear niggas don't like me It's funny, they wanna be jus' like me You bummy, it's jealousy more than likely The money, they made a nigga all icey Four finger ring that boy doin' his thing V-V-S Bling my chain long as a swing Boulevard king over known in Beijing Fully prepared for whatever the drama may bring Sixty-nine scraper with the up and down pumps Murder is forever don't fuck around once Bottle after bottle I down 'um till I'm drunk If you ain't chipped in don't come around my blunt Grimey and gritty New York City's top gun First nigga act up gets a hot one B-P-V the bottom and top done I get there, I gets it, I'm done, one [Chorus] Yeah I don't know about you but I'm doin' it for the queue Whip brand new size twenty-two shoe Use your money don't let your money use you I got a cruise view, you know the usual My life's beautful, my pockets full of bread You get outta pocket I play soccer with your head And that girl ain't your girl know the difference boy Nigga I done killed more niggas than a liquor store I left somethin' on her when I seen her And she was rubbin' it in, like Nakazeena She will kill big niggas, cute big hips And she's pretty convincin', a video vixen If you lookin' for a mack I fit the description Chicks see him take pictures and kiss him Back blockin' nigga I get it and I'm good I'm hood, livin' life like you should [Chorus] Grew up in the Y New York that is Why-why-Ya know the name I handle my biz, kid |
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3:23 |
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from 2Pac - Loyal To The Game (2004)
(2Pac)
Now I've got to ask, on a nigga's ass, tell me will they blast me? I think of an alias in case these crooked bitches ask me Now, it's gettin crazy after dark, these narcs be like tryin to shut me down but I'm too smart Now picture me scared of the penitentiary I've been movin these things since the days of elementary Now tell me what you need when you see me I'm stackin G's, buyin all the things on TV, believe me I got some killas on my payroll, and they know When it's time to handle business, nigga lay low Although I'm young, I'm still comin up I'm gettin paid, pullin raises on niggas when they runnin up The first to pull a strap when there's drama Busta, you ain't heard? I've been slicin motherfuckerss since I lost my momma There ain't a cop that can stop me My posse is cocked, G, and they don't quit until they drop me I'm loyal to the game (Chorus) (Treach) Without no doubt I ain't no slouch and it ain't time to back down So I jumps in and try to stop-a and watch-a Slap you cock-eyed like Popeye fucks spinach Forgotten more shit than most crews ever know, or ever knew Was born with 7 flows and only heaven knew For beat the boot sex, the news breaks, the you shakes Worse, they heard we got more nerve than a 2-fake Yoo-hoo to you crew and you too so you knew I'm from Jersey and I'm a teen so your block more than you do Whose the new crew? Show me your neck brotha, and here's another Smack your mother's mamma's mother In the first mob of all those other crack lovers Back was bitch-ass, trick ass, cluk-clow-cluk-clow How ya like me then, how ya like me, hey-ho, how ya like me now? Ow, pow, hurt, don't it? Bow, bow, don't run up on it The same thing minus P hangin possies like an exponent Oh yes, rock in slums, ya gots to run it It makes no sense to smell like shit If old ass George could be Washing-tons (Chorus) (Riddler) Now I be loyal to my niggas on the blocks, just buckin the shots And packin the glocks and dodgin the cops, and takin over niggas spots Poppin after poppin the fools be droppin, the hoes be hoppin On my thing cause it hangs like the nets from Above the Rim You lookin grim, is it me or him or him Or be with me, we be together So what's up? We can do whatever Cause real niggas stick together Till they make it up to heaven Through the stress, through the hell, through the 1-8-7 The shorter the nigga, the bigga the trigga The deeper they dig the ditch-a The Naughty the Treach then through to the Pac I brings the glock I wets up You fuckin body, I'm like, Oh my Gody Did I really shoot him? Yo I shot him So got him, now I puts the crime behind me And finds me, a place to lays my head low I lives doin my rap, but I dies for my hood row So all you fuckin fools better recognize, and know my fuckin name I be Riddler to my niggas and I'm loyal to the game (Chorus) |
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3:06 |
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from G-Unit - T.O.S. (Terminate On Sight) (2008)
I gangsta
Let it go I'm a gangsta I'm a gangsta for life I'm a gangsta Real gangsta, let it go I'm a gangsta (Yeah) I'm a gangsta for life (Yeah) I'm a gangsta (Come on) Real gangsta, let it go (G, G, G, G you know) Uh, the game took a turn crazy, it's all gravy Thanks to 50 Cent and Shady, they gon' play me These lil' niggaz can't fade me, they just babies Play me and I'm crazy, I'm Tom Brady Emeralds and baguettes when I'm hoppin? up off the jet A nigga reach for that and I'm choppin? him in his neck One big remix and she'll be on my penis If my flow had a phoenix and my paws are the cleanest 9-millimeters in the bars and arenas If you hood then you seen us with wood in the Beamers I'm that new nigga, they all over Adidas When they see us they don't charge that shit, they wanna be us (Let it go) When we pressed to go, body restin? up They wan' mop up all that blood but he's testin? us The moon eclipse, is a mess and ah We'll compose the new and then test it oh (Let it go) I'm a gangsta I'm a gangsta for life I'm a gangsta Don't fuck around and start some fight (Yeah, yeah, let it go) I'm Marvin Bernard, hip-hop goin? hard Feds ran in the crib, squad all in my yard I'm the high school dropout, crack game genius The mac'll turn your back into Kill Bill arenas I'm criminal minded, you've been blinded Feds lookin? for my bricks but can't find it Maneuver with the Ruger, the grip is rubber My Frank Mueller, is dipped in them rainbow colors Bein? broke is a disease, I need that guap and that cheddar I learned that, in the Maybach with Fif' and Mayweather Mix the milk with Amaretta, my beretta's in my leather My tiger striped eagle make your people need weather (Let it go) When we pressed to go, body restin? up They wan' mop up all that blood but he's testin? us The moon eclipse, is a mess and ah We'll compose the new and then test it oh (Let it go) When we pressed to go, body restin? up They wan' mop up all that blood but he's testin? us The moon eclipse, is a mess and ah We'll compose the new and then test it oh (Let it go) I'm a gangsta I'm a gangsta for life I'm a gangsta Don't fuck around and start some fight I want to dance I'm reachin? up and huh |
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3:06 |
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from G-Unit - T.O.S. (Terminate On Sight) (2008)
I gangsta
Let it go I'm a gangsta I'm a gangsta for life I'm a gangsta Real gangsta, let it go I'm a gangsta (Yeah) I'm a gangsta for life (Yeah) I'm a gangsta (Come on) Real gangsta, let it go (G, G, G, G you know) Uh, the game took a turn crazy, it's all gravy Thanks to 50 Cent and Shady, they gon' play me These lil' niggaz can't fade me, they just babies Play me and I'm crazy, I'm Tom Brady Emeralds and baguettes when I'm hoppin? up off the jet A nigga reach for that and I'm choppin? him in his neck One big remix and she'll be on my penis If my flow had a phoenix and my paws are the cleanest 9-millimeters in the bars and arenas If you hood then you seen us with wood in the Beamers I'm that new nigga, they all over Adidas When they see us they don't charge that shit, they wanna be us (Let it go) When we pressed to go, body restin? up They wan' mop up all that blood but he's testin? us The moon eclipse, is a mess and ah We'll compose the new and then test it oh (Let it go) I'm a gangsta I'm a gangsta for life I'm a gangsta Don't fuck around and start some fight (Yeah, yeah, let it go) I'm Marvin Bernard, hip-hop goin? hard Feds ran in the crib, squad all in my yard I'm the high school dropout, crack game genius The mac'll turn your back into Kill Bill arenas I'm criminal minded, you've been blinded Feds lookin? for my bricks but can't find it Maneuver with the Ruger, the grip is rubber My Frank Mueller, is dipped in them rainbow colors Bein? broke is a disease, I need that guap and that cheddar I learned that, in the Maybach with Fif' and Mayweather Mix the milk with Amaretta, my beretta's in my leather My tiger striped eagle make your people need weather (Let it go) When we pressed to go, body restin? up They wan' mop up all that blood but he's testin? us The moon eclipse, is a mess and ah We'll compose the new and then test it oh (Let it go) When we pressed to go, body restin? up They wan' mop up all that blood but he's testin? us The moon eclipse, is a mess and ah We'll compose the new and then test it oh (Let it go) I'm a gangsta I'm a gangsta for life I'm a gangsta Don't fuck around and start some fight I want to dance I'm reachin? up and huh |
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4:03 |
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from G-Unit - Beg For Mercy (2003)
[CHORUS]
I don’t know what you been thinking Don’t know what you been drinking But you get out of line boy I’ll lay your ass down [50 CENT] I been up in LA with Dre and Snoop for so long I’m finna crip walk and put some mother fuckin khakis on Nah thats iight man I ain’t got nuttin to prove I’m rich but I still live like I got nuttin to lose Look man I don’t know what you been drinkin’ I don’t know what you been thinkin’ But you get out line and swoop hit you upside the head Media they right whatever they choose The cops stay on my ass so I stay on the news These other rap niggas couldn’t walk in my shoes Went through a bunch of bullshit while I was payin my dues They say my music make a gangster want to pop something Well tell them niggas they could pop this and stop frontin’ You heard a nigga do you know how I get down Stay with my vest on and roll with a couple of tre pounds In case you mother fuckers want to jump bad now Start some bullshit and imma lay punk ass down [YOUNG BUCK] Hating niggas from long range for writing the wrong thangs My name Young Buck but I look like an old man Just cause I like ice don’t compare me to Lil Wayne I make rap niggas disappear like lil thangs See Buck been shot but not more than 50 I don’t dance but I look like signing with Diddy I got plans, grenades, and the G-Unit with me No commands we spray, give a fuck who we hittin Bustin my hand I pay em about 160 Hollow tips, four fifth with the rupper grips Crips and Bloods they show me love like I’m claiming the set These industry niggas know they better pay me my check I get a kick outta seeing these broke ass rappers Ten people showed up that’s why your show got cancelled 50 whatever they did to kid is handled Niggas callin 4 these features but they get no answer Fuck yall niggaz! [LLOYD BANKS] Bitches know it’s a privilege If I stop to check her Niggas all I got is hot shit the kids call me Dr Pepper And I don’t mean the soda The sixteen top shot loada I’ll bend ya ass up like yoga You fuckin with a soulja Selling tickets for a first class trip to a hospital folda So please keep talking so we could spread your feet Have you on your boulevard C walking The birds keep hawking Why? Cause im hurtin every CD I’m walking from DC to Boston I laugh at a snotty chick bitch I don’t argue I’ll leave a print on your ass Imma karate kid The niggas that I be with got guns On the big body tip and if they pull out You guarding and shit You got me in a heavy gray picture Plus I light up trees like everyday is Christmas |
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from Lloyd Banks - Mo`Money In The Bank (2008)
You can call me big truck Banks, or Lamborghini Lloyd,
Ferrari F-50 made me one rich boy, Niggaz ain't sayin nothin just alotta slick noise, I got silencers for that, them rubber grip toys, Over twenty hoes that do what I say so, Fight ova me like them bitches on the Flava Flav show, I don't smoke 'em up this is major grade dro, The flows tight like Bathing Ape clothes, I'm in and out the I city got state to state shows, Just in case you wonderin if I'ma make the states know, They tryin to lock a niggas so the kid stay low, Indictments is the only thing the pigs pray for, I pop up in the Vanguish the two doo, nigga, It's green white like a blue nose pit, The shoes don't fit, I got a few more hits, That mean brand new houses and U-Haul trips, And my mama's so proud she could do 4 flips, If you jeopardize that, you can rest in peace, When H died I felt it in my chest for weeks, All I got is my word, my crew my vest and heat, So what you wanna do, I'm right in fronna you, I'll make the ambulance pick up every onna you, Then I'll be back next week yeah I'm comin through, Makin my way to the dance floor to do my 1 and 2, What it do, you know me just chillin, Thinkin bout what Ima do after I sell 5 million, The elevator stops at a very high buildin, Let's just say I'm smart, at this playa art, I heard all the talk but refused to play a part, In beefin wit a nigga that was on change of heart, I spun the wheel of fortune got the Vanna White Challenger, Still on the stage with the hammer like Gallager, I'm a hood nigga got a hundred goons wild at ya, That'll take ya head off, smooth as excalaber, Nigga, I ain't ya ordinary I'm betta, Kevlar sweater'll keep a nigga togetha, It's still mandatory that we see the chedda, I'm grimey, I'm greasey a GT or betta, Whateva, you could put the house on Cris, That's why ya bitch wanna put her mouth on this. |
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3:49 |
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from G-Unit - T.O.S. (Terminate On Sight) (2008)
[50 Cent] + (Tony Yayo)
(Yeah, yeah) Yeah (G-UNIT!!) My Polo on (check) my Dolce on (check) It's my crew and Polow Da Don I get that kitty ma (yeah!) I get that cash boo Shake that kitty girl, shake that ass hoe! [Chorus: woman] Owww, I need cash for my kitty cat Owww, I need cash for my kitty cat Owww, I need cash for my kitty cat [TY] Well girl I get pussy for free, I'm hittin that Owww, I need cash for my kitty cat Owww, I need cash for my kitty cat Owww, I need cash for my kitty cat [50] But bitch I get pussy for free, I'm hittin that [Tony Yayo] Big boy Bentley, big boy semi Niggaz wanna kill me, ain't worth nigga pennies I drop a bag off, and the uz' will spray you I need six pockets like a pool table These hoes love me, these hoes love my pimpin They in the Phantom, clickin on they Cablevision Dope, I got the Chef Boyardee bags Coke, I got it runnin out the rehab Hoes like, "Why he actin so Hollywood? Cause there's a chauffeur in his 300 Hollywood" I'm hot, no ghostwriter for the mic Basically the Hollywood writer on strike, YEAH! [Chorus] [50 Cent] She got what I want, want (uh-huh) She got what I need, need (that's right) She rollin my blunt, blunt (yeah) Bitch hand me my weed, weed... {*growls*} I'm so ghetto, I'm so, I'm so ghetto On the low, I creeps, I moves with my metal I be's in the club with my burner like WHAT I done did so much dirt, I ain't tryin to get CUT I'm a bad boy, that bad boy they wan' fuck with They like that black on black rims on the Caddy truck kid I make that hard white flip, nigga since "Get Rich" My jewels so sick, they talk to a bitch Like, get in get in! You and your friend He sold ten mil' twice, he fin' to do it again ALL ABOARD! Bitch don't miss the train 50 that nigga, fuck wrong with yo' brain, huh? [Chorus] [Lloyd Banks] I don't pay for kitten, are ya kiddin? Well it's the kid A.K.A., in and out your sister's crib Mr. So Fly, I O.D. the stores My car damn near fly, it got eagle doors Before you see me off, you'll see hell freeze You got a V-12? I got 12 V's It's only so many months, you do the math I'm a smoker, it's so many blunts for you to pass on me Girl you crazy, got on B.B., rollin And your mouth'll be, foamin if I keep, keep goin You might see, me, frozen cause I'm holdin I done told 'em If yo' game can't control 'em, then she's as good as stolen [Chorus] |
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3:49 |
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from G-Unit - T.O.S. (Terminate On Sight) (2008)
[50 Cent] + (Tony Yayo)
(Yeah, yeah) Yeah (G-UNIT!!) My Polo on (check) my Dolce on (check) It's my crew and Polow Da Don I get that kitty ma (yeah!) I get that cash boo Shake that kitty girl, shake that ass hoe! [Chorus: woman] Owww, I need cash for my kitty cat Owww, I need cash for my kitty cat Owww, I need cash for my kitty cat [TY] Well girl I get pussy for free, I'm hittin that Owww, I need cash for my kitty cat Owww, I need cash for my kitty cat Owww, I need cash for my kitty cat [50] But bitch I get pussy for free, I'm hittin that [Tony Yayo] Big boy Bentley, big boy semi Niggaz wanna kill me, ain't worth nigga pennies I drop a bag off, and the uz' will spray you I need six pockets like a pool table These hoes love me, these hoes love my pimpin They in the Phantom, clickin on they Cablevision Dope, I got the Chef Boyardee bags Coke, I got it runnin out the rehab Hoes like, "Why he actin so Hollywood? Cause there's a chauffeur in his 300 Hollywood" I'm hot, no ghostwriter for the mic Basically the Hollywood writer on strike, YEAH! [Chorus] [50 Cent] She got what I want, want (uh-huh) She got what I need, need (that's right) She rollin my blunt, blunt (yeah) Bitch hand me my weed, weed... {*growls*} I'm so ghetto, I'm so, I'm so ghetto On the low, I creeps, I moves with my metal I be's in the club with my burner like WHAT I done did so much dirt, I ain't tryin to get CUT I'm a bad boy, that bad boy they wan' fuck with They like that black on black rims on the Caddy truck kid I make that hard white flip, nigga since "Get Rich" My jewels so sick, they talk to a bitch Like, get in get in! You and your friend He sold ten mil' twice, he fin' to do it again ALL ABOARD! Bitch don't miss the train 50 that nigga, fuck wrong with yo' brain, huh? [Chorus] [Lloyd Banks] I don't pay for kitten, are ya kiddin? Well it's the kid A.K.A., in and out your sister's crib Mr. So Fly, I O.D. the stores My car damn near fly, it got eagle doors Before you see me off, you'll see hell freeze You got a V-12? I got 12 V's It's only so many months, you do the math I'm a smoker, it's so many blunts for you to pass on me Girl you crazy, got on B.B., rollin And your mouth'll be, foamin if I keep, keep goin You might see, me, frozen cause I'm holdin I done told 'em If yo' game can't control 'em, then she's as good as stolen [Chorus] |
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| from Lloyd Banks - Mo`Money In The Bank (2008) | |||||
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4:38 |
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from Lloyd Banks - The Hunger For More (2004)
[Chorus]
I am the one you denied Brushed me off every time tried But I'm alright I'm able to swallow my pride And put all the bullshit to the side If you ready to ride I'm down for a one night stand I'll accept it any way that I can 'cause I ain't yo man I'll try for whatever its worth Just remember who played who first I can't keep my eyes off ya I can tell why them other guys lost ya The kinds red an a flying saucer That's what I can offer Similarities and characters Haven't ya heard the word around town How I get down? They all whistle Everybody part official An that ass was you Got my dick hard as a missile Don't hop on top 'cause I ride around with a pistol N if they pull us over ill be out of town wit an issue If you was mine id introduce you to momma girl Your styling your moves n your nirvana I'm so used to you're Prada Taking trips to Houston its hotta Throwing that Al Green n using that impala Lay my jewels on my collar Ya had me feeling like a fool when I holla'd Trying to squeeze in but you wouldn't bother But I ain't either Soon as I realize that I ain't either She in a rush to get close to me but I ain't eager [Chorus] Like I don't mean to bother you But your sex appeal is remarkable You make a G wanna walk around in a park with you There ain't no telling what kinda things that I'm a start to do If I get wrapped up on your ass to fast I can tell you feel the same 'cause when I ask you laugh So I'm a leave it at that n hint n put it in my math I imagine your prolly twice as good in a bath But I'm buggin' 'cause I can see you right in the hood when I pass I'm never stapled 'cause business is on my ass But you can be the one I visit before I dash An I admit I been the type to hit n split But you can blame me for the females that I been getting with 'cause most of these broads have there eyes on my grits Till they're in deeper shit n they learn how to be satisfied with the dick an' N if you ain't worth it then that's all you get I ain't gonna blame you I'm gonna blame them tricks 'cause [Chorus] You seem like your attitude Only appears when I'm mad at you In several situations n that includes When I'm gone to long ridin' through them avenues As soon as I get home this room is a scattered boos You know my fantasies and my feeling things at camera speed N you're girlfriends trying to sandwich me My hearts colder then ya sandwich meat 'cause I come from the hood where the hammers be I move fast but at a switch pace N I pop in a Listerine strip before you get all up on a bitch face Moving your body like this Gonna make me blow like a bottle of cris I don't know no one hotter then twis You got my temperature risin' from your hips to you're thighs an That glare in your eyes that brighten up her horizon It comes naturally I don't bribe em Its easy as, 1, 2, 3 n I slide em [Chorus] |
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4:39 |
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from Lloyd Banks - The Hunger For More (2004)
[Chorus]
I am the one you denied Brushed me off every time tried But I'm alright I'm able to swallow my pride And put all the bullshit to the side If you ready to ride I'm down for a one night stand I'll accept it any way that I can 'cause I ain't yo man I'll try for whatever its worth Just remember who played who first I can't keep my eyes off ya I can tell why them other guys lost ya The kinds red an a flying saucer That's what I can offer Similarities and characters Haven't ya heard the word around town How I get down? They all whistle Everybody part official An that ass was you Got my dick hard as a missile Don't hop on top 'cause I ride around with a pistol N if they pull us over ill be out of town wit an issue If you was mine id introduce you to momma girl Your styling your moves n your nirvana I'm so used to you're Prada Taking trips to Houston its hotta Throwing that Al Green n using that impala Lay my jewels on my collar Ya had me feeling like a fool when I holla'd Trying to squeeze in but you wouldn't bother But I ain't either Soon as I realize that I ain't either She in a rush to get close to me but I ain't eager [Chorus] Like I don't mean to bother you But your sex appeal is remarkable You make a G wanna walk around in a park with you There ain't no telling what kinda things that I'm a start to do If I get wrapped up on your ass to fast I can tell you feel the same 'cause when I ask you laugh So I'm a leave it at that n hint n put it in my math I imagine your prolly twice as good in a bath But I'm buggin' 'cause I can see you right in the hood when I pass I'm never stapled 'cause business is on my ass But you can be the one I visit before I dash An I admit I been the type to hit n split But you can blame me for the females that I been getting with 'cause most of these broads have there eyes on my grits Till they're in deeper shit n they learn how to be satisfied with the dick an' N if you ain't worth it then that's all you get I ain't gonna blame you I'm gonna blame them tricks 'cause [Chorus] You seem like your attitude Only appears when I'm mad at you In several situations n that includes When I'm gone to long ridin' through them avenues As soon as I get home this room is a scattered boos You know my fantasies and my feeling things at camera speed N you're girlfriends trying to sandwich me My hearts colder then ya sandwich meat 'cause I come from the hood where the hammers be I move fast but at a switch pace N I pop in a Listerine strip before you get all up on a bitch face Moving your body like this Gonna make me blow like a bottle of cris I don't know no one hotter then twis You got my temperature risin' from your hips to you're thighs an That glare in your eyes that brighten up her horizon It comes naturally I don't bribe em Its easy as, 1, 2, 3 n I slide em [Chorus] |
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3:30 |
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from Lloyd Banks - The Hunger For More (2004)
Man what the fuck are you lookin' for?
Can't a young nigga make money any more Blow a couple grand in the N-B-A Store Rock twenty-four thousand on the N-B-A floor Niggas be on stage bendin' over on tour Leave anti-social with a case of lockjaw Just cause shorty look good, don't mean that you should go Puttin' ice on the bitch like she won the Superbowl Even the chips are low, for all these so-called old heads Just ain't the same niggas I used to know I got a Houston ho - nah she ain't the sharpest knife In the drawer but she a damn good booster though See I could fuck a supermodel with my ? works Send her home with a smile and a couple kids on her shirt I got a year into the game A 141 rocks layin' on my chain, yeah! [Chorus] Just another day, chillin' in the hood Just another day around the way I'm tipsy off the Hennessy We ridin' round with the H-K, nigga we don't play Just another day, chillin' in the hood Just another day around the way We smoke a quarter pound a day G-Unit we here to stay, nigga we don't play Never mind the lames in my era, they all want me dead And I know, it's all over the way I see bread Here I go, caught up in some he say she said 'Til I go, put a slug in my enemy's head The Tahoe's, bulletproof so you can't get through Then follow, your ass and whoever ran with you And you about as assed-out as two jammed pistols Bleedin' around a bunch of niggas who can't fix you So bring yours, cause you know I got mine with me kid The 8'll make you lose weight like Missy did The O.G.'s tryin' to hide they phony smilin' Reputation always arise in Coney Island I'm at your local newsstand jerk While the only X-X-L you been in as a shirt And, speakin' of shirts, get a new white T God damn it feels good to be me, nigga! [Chorus] Now I'm goin', shoppin' with a plastic card now I'm growin', knockin' international broads down They know him, they're not gonna even pat the star down I'm holdin', a glock so don't even act that hard now You might bust your gun but your gat's in the car clown So break your lil' weed up and crack your cigars down Cause I ain't tryin' to start my visits, with the fuckin' judge Givin' niggas life like it's parkin' tickets Now I get to go to bed with a model And the crib is bout as big as it is on the Belvedere bottle I got all kind of ex' I could ram in they faces Red and blue pills like the man in The Matrix You might have spent some paper on your lil' charm but My piece is bout as heavy as Lil' Jon cup But, it's never tucked, nigga I don't give a fuck I'll get bucked 'fore I give somethin' up, yup! [Chorus] |
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| from Lloyd Banks - Mo`Money In The Bank (2008) | |||||
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| from Lloyd Banks - Mo`Money In The Bank (2008) | |||||
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3:31 |
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from Lloyd Banks - The Hunger For More (2004)
[Lloyd Banks]
Around here them boys, them don't play You can hear the sound of gunspray e'ryday I give two fucks bout what a bird say Playboy Don do t'ings er' way I'm rap's LeBron, Teflon Don Baguettes on arm, the next Sean, John By any means I protect my charm Blade'll bubble you up, like Moet, Chandon I'm only calm, when I'm blowin that chron' Gettin them flashbacks like baby hold onnnnn I never thought I'd sweat so long And re-enact the scene of my ghetto song Eyes wanderin off, breath all gone Stomach all swoll up, neck all warm Head still spinnin off that Seagram and vodka And you know who shot ya, bitch get the doctor! [Chorus: Lloyd Banks] (If you so gangsta) Then why you tuck your chain in when you walk in the club (And if you so gangsta) Why you a grown man, still gettin your pockets dug (If you so gangsta) Then how come everytime you get into beef you tell (And if you so gangsta) Why niggaz know you for that in the street so well [Lloyd Banks] Now every now and then, a new kid gotta win Yeah - but unfortunately for you, I'm him (I'm sorry!) In my new tan trucks with the blue dot end Hoppin out that big truck with the new wide rim While you cramped up, on your Jet Blue ride in We air the G-4, let the crew dive in Before Lloyd Banks tail pop on sale I feed a nigga a shell like Taco Bell I'm flyin out to Japan to attract new fans Let 'em get to know the man with the tattooed hands Them gem stars'll leave your face all fat So learn to stash yours in your baseball cap I'm either gettin money out of state or off rap So I'm tryin to figure out what made Ma$e fall back And them niggaz in New York know the man is a monster And I ain't from Atlanta but I A-Town stomp ya muh'fucker [Chorus] [Lloyd Banks] It's like everywhere I look and, everywhere I go It's a bitch sayin somethin slick, but you can suck my dick I'm grade A nigga, you don't know who you fuckin with They run up on your ass, you'll think you drunk your lip Now I got money bags as big as a pumpkin get And pistol as long as the hand Shaq dunkin with I ain't the type that's desperate I'm modelin diamonds now, you can call me +Icin+ Beckford (ow!) My down bitch holds the metal, she got a Coke bottle figure And a ass that's shaped like a bowl of Jell-o You ain't even almost rich They fuckin yo' ass, like the models in my porno flicks Therefore you can't afford no 6 So before you hop your ass on camera get your wardrobe fixed Banks don't house, want no bitch, so if there's five of her Then she probably gon' suck 4 more dicks [Chorus] |
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3:31 |
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| from Lloyd Banks - The Hunger For More (2004) | |||||
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5:27 |
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from Lloyd Banks - Rotten Apple (2006)
Yeah! Uh, I'm back
Uh, ha ha Uh, ooh [Chorus] Yeah yeah, they know me 'round here, they call me Iceman I ain't your friend boy, I'll fuck your wife man Look at my left, now look at my right hand Every time I move it looks like a strike of lightning My name is Banks, but you can call me Igloo There's white rocks on my neck, and my wrist's blue So don't trip, cause you know I got my pistol You'll be surprised of the doors that it gets through Yeah, Louie introduced me to jewelry, now I'm lovin' it Tell Jacob the shinin's so good, them hoes love the shit Diamond after diamond, and I climbed up out the bottom So holla if it's a problem, I got 'em just like you got 'em I'm stylin' they grillin' cause my whip can buy a skyscraper Roll down the windows stick my hand out, "Hi hater!" I'm on my way to L.A., I'll see you guys later You'll be here when I get back, ain't got no time to drink that Now all I do is sit back, hop on the plane and sip 'gnac Hop in the Range and whip that, came in the game with this crap You say my name you get smacked, right on your brain with the gat Know who you playin with Black, then holla back [Chorus] My name is Buck, but you can call me Icey I keep spillin' Cristal on my white T Don't give a fuck, bitch you ain't gotta like me I pop my trunk and have you runnin' in your Nike's Look what I just bought, this white mink I got it in New York And this bright link I put it on and walk right out the store Where's my car keys? What am I gon' drive? My Phantom got the steering wheel on the wrong side Pocket full of cash, Ferrari with the drive-out tags Them hoes followin' us, let me stop and get some gas Liberace, the cops watch me I'm ice skatin' like a nigga playin' hockey ? holla back [Chorus] Canary yellow princess cut, rocks when I smile Fat boy kept it gritty since I was a chubby child Look at me now, hat cocked up, wristwatch rocked up When I put my hand up to my mouth and hit that sticky stuff The light, hit the ice, on my eight-ways piece In the streets, I'm a G; on the mic, I'm a beast Keep a bitch, on her knees, nigga please, I'm a pimp Purge first, ask last, I'm a shark, you a shrimp Check a deuce, Chevrolet, rims taller than my son Gun, on the seat with a extra clip cause I ain't fin' to run In my brand new, shell toe, three stripe, all white In other words, come my way with that shit you gon' lose your life [Chorus] What the fuck are they yellin' Dope man, anybody killa in the hood, fuck the homeboy sellin' I've got a problem with him - if I can't touch it Then he can't slang it, and these streets get dangerous Corny niggas pull up in cargo vans Palms sweaty, icky's out with they masks all mad I gave 'em the order, and that's all bad Born into flossin' flashin' got his mark-ass, smashed The Iceman is in the buildin' chillin' Big game huntin' and this lame's, stuntin' Got an addiction that's deeper than a prescription He's sleepin' I'm on a mission to beat him in my position It's fucked [Chorus] They know me 'round here, they call me Iceman Watch out They know me 'round here, they call me Iceman Watch out, I'll fuck yo' wife man They know me 'round here, they call me Iceman Watch out They know me 'round here, I'll fuck yo' wife man Watch out, yeah |
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| from The Game - Charge It To The Game/ The Mixtape (2005) | |||||
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2:25 |
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from G-Unit - Beg For Mercy (2003)
(50 Cent)
Yeah, Yeah, Yeah Little Tyrone tired of gettin' his ass whipped so he holdin' that gat down His momma think it's my fault cause he listen to "back down" Bobby was a fucking bum he pumpin' now He keeps her fresh chicks white T's and fitted hats now Uncle Rock-a-whiner we wont put the yack down Eric had a jump shop but he's smoking crack now The Lunatics the Lost Boys cheap shit is wack now Country boots shrowden crackers got him on his back now And Sean runnin' round with his gat now Up in niggaz cribs sayin' where that money at pound And Saundra from BK I seen her out in Houston That bitch travel the world she runnin' round boostin' And Toya got these bad ass kids they a nusince Their baby daddy's never come around they useless Everynow and then I come through on some new shit Pearly white six and some chrome deuce deuce. (Chorus: 50 Cent) I'm so hood, I can't help it I'm so hood, I can't help it Love me for being me Cause I can't change it - can't rearrange it - I am what I am. So love me for being me. I'm so hood, I can't help it I'm so hood, I can't help it Love me for being me Cause I can't change it - can't rearrange it - I am what I am. So love me for being me. (50 Cent) Now Im'a six man momma told me god don't like ugly I fell scraped my face and thought god must don't love me So Owen every morning before school he sell dope Niggaz keep whoopin' that ass cause he sell soap. Charlie be beggin' all the time he stay broke Flip be down on 109 rollin' up smoke Chamie he a thief catch a stunt in a stolen car He that nigga that you call when you crash and need new parts They say they love me because I rap now but they don't like me I've been locked up 3 times and they ain't write me Stevey a pump fucker with Shanqua get mean quick Pop shots at you he sure must suck a mean dick The blocks hot D's jump out on us almost all the time They watch us from the building but niggaz still be on the grime Wade used to call the cops and tell them G had a nine Til G put that gun in down that seat and said it wasn't mine (Chorus: 50 Cent) |
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4:00 |
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from Lloyd Banks - The Hunger For More (2004)
[Intro - Lloyd Banks]
Yeah! Aye yo 50 They don't do it like us nigga Yeah! [Chorus] I'm so fly, I got money So that's good enough reason to buy the things I buy I'm so high, I'm on point And I could tell that your jealous just by the look in your eye And when I ride by I don't care, G-Unit's going straight to the top this year Nigga I'm so fly, I got money So that's good enough reason to buy the things I buy [Verse - Lloyd Banks] Uh, Banks is fresh out the gutter Too smooth to stutter The cig a melt a brother like two scoops of butter Before I leave the crib I tell my mother I love her Grab the burner But she ain't concerned 'cause he's a earner My bitch lays it out real nice for me to murder We fight, wake up and fuck like Ike and Tina Turner Its a privilege to ride with a celeb' 'Cause them girls over here don't got a problem giving head Paranoia is on ya', that's why ya' llama's in ya' bed Fuck some real Chinchilla, buy some Llama for ya' head Where the block I'm from Niggaz be damn near forty and still tucking And niggaz baby mama's is pregnant and still fucking It's either 'cause they boyfriends a scrub like Brillo 'Cause Banks is cooler than the other side of the pillow The chronic is blown For my niggaz that got locked up and deported And now they gotta go back home [Chorus] [Verse - Lloyd Banks] Don't confuse me with the suckers 'Cause when I spit, You'll hear more ?Oh's? Then a Skip-to my-Lou move at the Rucker Thank God for giving Banks the gift You think that bandana makes you look gangsta But all I see is a handkerchief Nigga there's no one out the click that freezes Believe that, 'cause I ain't scared a shit but Jesus Look dog, I don't run with the poodles Difference is, I'm eating in Rome and you eating Roman Noodles Ya' boy is corrupt kid Banks a send a bitch to the store Just for a piece of cheesecake like Puff did You chumps can't afford these homes Look around I got forty clones Now look down, that's forty stones And that's only in the necklace I'm bony and I'm wreck lace It's Tony in a Lexus I'm fresh out the gutter, scrap what ya' man thought I'm in the hood with more straps than a Jan sport [Chorus] [Verse - Lloyd Banks] When I travel I know I'm gon' get stuck 'Cause they harass us in the airport Like I'm the one that's blowing shit up I got the patience of a High School teacher And a bright future Why the fuck would I have a bum on my sneaker? All the goodie girls back off us My hearts colder then Jack Frost's We pack shows and attract bosses Black clothes with my black Forces A black rose for a rats coffin I'm blowing O's of that black coughing Blow on the road then I'm back flossing No one knows how much that's costing Fuck ass, only the green moves me I got a clean Uzi A pair of gloves and a mask from the Scream movie So if you plotting on popping off, then scheme smoothly Or get a little red splatter on ya' cream Coogi My name ring each state So you ain't gotta go all the way to L.A. to get ya MC ate [Chorus] |
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4:00 |
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from Lloyd Banks - The Hunger For More (2004)
[Intro - Lloyd Banks]
Yeah! Aye yo 50 They don't do it like us nigga Yeah! [Chorus] I'm so fly, I got money So that's good enough reason to buy the things I buy I'm so high, I'm on point And I could tell that your jealous just by the look in your eye And when I ride by I don't care, G-Unit's going straight to the top this year Nigga I'm so fly, I got money So that's good enough reason to buy the things I buy [Verse - Lloyd Banks] Uh, Banks is fresh out the gutter Too smooth to stutter The cig a melt a brother like two scoops of butter Before I leave the crib I tell my mother I love her Grab the burner But she ain't concerned 'cause he's a earner My bitch lays it out real nice for me to murder We fight, wake up and fuck like Ike and Tina Turner Its a privilege to ride with a celeb' 'Cause them girls over here don't got a problem giving head Paranoia is on ya', that's why ya' llama's in ya' bed Fuck some real Chinchilla, buy some Llama for ya' head Where the block I'm from Niggaz be damn near forty and still tucking And niggaz baby mama's is pregnant and still fucking It's either 'cause they boyfriends a scrub like Brillo 'Cause Banks is cooler than the other side of the pillow The chronic is blown For my niggaz that got locked up and deported And now they gotta go back home [Chorus] [Verse - Lloyd Banks] Don't confuse me with the suckers 'Cause when I spit, You'll hear more ?Oh's? Then a Skip-to my-Lou move at the Rucker Thank God for giving Banks the gift You think that bandana makes you look gangsta But all I see is a handkerchief Nigga there's no one out the click that freezes Believe that, 'cause I ain't scared a shit but Jesus Look dog, I don't run with the poodles Difference is, I'm eating in Rome and you eating Roman Noodles Ya' boy is corrupt kid Banks a send a bitch to the store Just for a piece of cheesecake like Puff did You chumps can't afford these homes Look around I got forty clones Now look down, that's forty stones And that's only in the necklace I'm bony and I'm wreck lace It's Tony in a Lexus I'm fresh out the gutter, scrap what ya' man thought I'm in the hood with more straps than a Jan sport [Chorus] [Verse - Lloyd Banks] When I travel I know I'm gon' get stuck 'Cause they harass us in the airport Like I'm the one that's blowing shit up I got the patience of a High School teacher And a bright future Why the fuck would I have a bum on my sneaker? All the goodie girls back off us My hearts colder then Jack Frost's We pack shows and attract bosses Black clothes with my black Forces A black rose for a rats coffin I'm blowing O's of that black coughing Blow on the road then I'm back flossing No one knows how much that's costing Fuck ass, only the green moves me I got a clean Uzi A pair of gloves and a mask from the Scream movie So if you plotting on popping off, then scheme smoothly Or get a little red splatter on ya' cream Coogi My name ring each state So you ain't gotta go all the way to L.A. to get ya MC ate [Chorus] |
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from Lloyd Banks - Mo`Money In The Bank (2008)
Whooo
Yea nigga ain't nothin changed G-units the motherfuckin gang Yayo these niggas thought I was over, like like a nigga fell off or something like like I don't get paid for this like like is you motherfuckin stupid Yea I'm a show you niggas how to stack, I'm cakin I get rid of you niggas by the pack, And I'd hate to come off like a sibliminal on a track, With the police listenin yea they watch us like that, So I stay on my one and twos even watch my numbers move, Why you think we in running shoes I ain't like them other dudes, I'm from queens where fathers leave in vile, And daughters havin babies cause they in style, We ain't have shit that's why don't smile, Neighborhoods fucked up that's why we all wild, Gutter just blew trial and L got 7 left, So I'm a stunt like hell, So I'm at heaven's steps, And 7 vest hammer proof vest in the sket, Niggas watchin my brain cause they ain't make nothin yet, I gotta little thin card when I go shop I swipe it and then cop then its right back to the block, Gotta swallow your pride hide and ask him to stop, Got the vision of Rakim and the passion of Pac, I'll put 2 in a goon they'll handle triggers everyday, And they all yellow bucks, Like the niggas in a grave ay blowing a O a day blowing the dro away, These niggas is little kids go in the stow and play, I get a girl a day, take all your fun away, So if you comin to beef bring a loaded K Yea ya niggas know what it is man ain't shit changed man ya forgot ya can't challenge me or something you bum ass niggas better stay as far away from me as possible man I'm on that new shit on that bullshit man straight up man fuck all the rap talk nigga you won't catch me at the motherfuckin red I'm on a green carpet nigga |
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3:58 |
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from G-Unit - Beg For Mercy (2003)
(Intro)
*Sniff Sniff* You smell that? What's that? I smell pussy! (Is that you Irv?) I smell pussy! (Is that you Ja?) I smell pussy! (Is that you Black?) I smell pussy! (Is that you Tah?) (Verse One) Y'all niggas is pussy!!!!! I'm falling out nigga now watch me (watch me) Ain't nothing you can do to stop me (stop me) Y'all niggas get so emotional (emotional) You remind me of my bitch...HaHa It's not of my nature to make a commitment so let me breathe What she doesn't understand catch attitudes when I leave her Quite of probation just make it harder for me to accept her as my own She tries to tie up my phone and I'm not at home she's thinking I'm not alone Probably out tryin' to bone anything in the street I let her know she can leave I ain't tryin' to tie her up But see it's hard to fuck wit somebody after she touches me Mami I'm not your regular nigga I know the game But I don't play by the rules I'm focusing on my moves That way I will never lose See I can tell by your shoes if you attracted to Benz's with 22's You say I confuse you play little trick with your head Been catching feelings ever since the first time I slept in your bed I'm not here to tease you mislead you with so your dreams I can't say I love you I don't know what that means I'M A PIMP!!!! (Chorus (twice)) Girl you know I like when you climb on top Love muscle feel tighter than a headlock And you know I love the way you make the bed rock Take me to Ecstasy with out takin Ecstasy Girl you know I like when you climb on top Love muscle feel tighter than a headlock And you know I love the way you make the bed rock Take me to Ecstasy with out takin Ecstasy (Verse Two) When I first met her, I did anything to get her Paid all her bills and filled her frigerator Reminiscing on late nights when I tried to lay up But couldn't get off 'cause your baby would stay up She even crashed the whip tryin' to switch in the third lane That's when I realized this bitch was a bird brain A pigeon writing her baby pops in the box in prison Sing-Sing is where he been in She in the Gucci tights and Fendi high heels Baby wipes and cans of Enfamil Motor Bikes and grams of fish scale So 9 to 5 niggas was no frill Turning young niggas with principals to old men with debts And all the prank calls was death threats That bitch got the best sex all across the globe And the bitch head game was out of control (Chorus (twice)) (Verse Three) I wonder when I'm gone if you miss me Or do you miss that Don Perignon and that Christy I'm fuckin wit you I'm feeling your shape I'm feeling your eyes later on I'm feeling your ass and feeling your thighs Sweetheart you book smart and street-smart I knew you was my type from the very, very start I'm in to tongue kissing 4 play all day Mamma ain't home so the noise is okay ODB you know he like it the raw way Latex, safe sex ,no hickeys on the neck Now your learning The lords blesses make me wiser as the worlds turning My tongue touch the right spot I'll have your toes curling Whether we just kicking it or we sexing I'm a pro baby girl I spit game to perfection So when niggas make mistakes I correct 'em and When niggas get out of line I check the man (Chorus) (50 Cent talking) Yeah........ don't think I forgot about your fat ass though Irv You wanna run around takin pictures like you Puff Daddy and the Family motherfucker With that bitch Charli Baltimore... Bitch look like she died last week pale as fuck Paint her hair red... Think she gon' sell records tryin' to impersonate Pink and shit! Bitch... punk-ass motherfuckers All you motherfuckers get rolled on nigga Ain't no motherfucking, "leave her alone 'cause she a bitch" FUCK that nigga!! Fuck all of it!! But not you Ashanti baby You know how I feel about you baby Come on... come here girl... c'mon gimme some love girl Fuck Irv Gotti... you know how me and you do baby You know... they say I'm sexy now... HaHaHa Aye Irv your momma got a thing for me!!!! |
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from G-Unit - I Like The Way She Do It [single] (2008)
I Like the Way she do it
I Like the Way she do it I Like the Way she do it I Like the Way she do I Said I Like the Way she do it She put her back into it Then she drop it low to gets the doe I Like the Way she do it She put her back into it Let that ass drop like my 64 I Said I Like the Way she do it She put her back into it Then she drop it low to gets the doe I Like the Way she do it She put her back into it Let that ass drop like my 64 I suppose to blow you suppose to know Not to go against me or it R I P I'm stupid rich got retarded money I'm special wit it I got special bread It's easy now please believe me now I dismiss a hoe please leave me now I fuck when I want I do what I like She want the same shit I want the bitch is a dike She a super freak the freak of the week I give her something a suck she give her something to eat It never enough she like it rough We keep it going and we switch positions listen I Like the Way she do it I Like the Way she do it I Like the Way she do it I Like the Way she do I Said I Like the Way she do it She put her back into it Then she drop it low to gets the doe I Like the Way she do it She put her back into it Let that ass drop like my 64 I Said I Like the Way she do it She put her back into it Then she drop it low to gets the doe I Like the Way she do it She put her back into it Let that ass drop like my 64 I need a dollar for every time that my heart beat Now how much it that I can breath on a track and make money Now how much is that I'm getting money baby my truck a Lamborghini I'm in lebb where the girls are freaky Haters wanna be me hoes glad to see me Ma I love it when you lie & say my eyes are dreamy I'm in the club frontin I'm in the club stuntin 10 Grand to buy the bar Ma it ain't nothing If home girl wit it I'm get it hit it split it She'll think about me everyday hour minute Second to nobody baby check it you look as good as your chess And when your neck it I'm ready to fuck A little head in the truck If a turn gang good i'ma let her come up When the sun goes down I'll be back in the town Stash box down put the magnum down I'm with G Unit Nigga you not ballin a the G 2 jet I Like the Way she do it I Like the Way she do it I Like the Way she do it I Like the Way she do it She got a nigga on the count down Waitin on it like Three two one Yea right now You got skills on them high heels When we leave this club I'm take you were I live Do me before I get her I might eat out depending on how I feel Baby girl got a thang for me She do what every I say and I ain't got to make it rain money Go getta and she ghetto with it Told shawty dont do it but she already did it I'm all on her back when she move like that You can find me where every she at like that I Said I Like the Way she do it She put her back into it Then she drop it low to gets the doe I Like the Way she do it She put her back into it Let that ass drop like my 64 I Said I Like the Way she do it She put her back into it Then she drop it low to gets the doe I Like the Way she do it She put her back into it Let that ass drop like my 64 |
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from G-Unit - T.O.S. (Terminate On Sight) (2008)
(Bridge) 50 Cent
I Like the Way she do it I Like the Way she do it I Like the Way she do it I Like the Way she do it (Chorus) 50 Cent I Said I Like the Way she do it, She put her back into it Then she drop it low, to gets the doe I said I Like the Way she do it, She put her back into it Let that ass drop, like my '64 I Said I Like the Way she do it, She put her back into it Then she drop it low, to gets the doe I said I Like the Way she do it, She put her back into it Let that ass drop, like my '64 (Verse 1) Im suppose to blow, you suppose to know Not to go against me or it R.I.P I'm stupid rich, got retarded money I'm special Ed, I got special bread It's easy now, please believe me now I dismiss a hoe, bitch leave me now I f**k when I want, I do what I like She want the same chick I want, the bitch is a dike She a super freak, the freak of the week I give her something a suck, she give her something to eat It never enough, she like it rough We keep it going and we switch positions, listen (Bridge) 50 Cent I Like the Way she do it I Like the Way she do it I Like the Way she do it I Like the Way she do it (Chorus) 50 Cent I Said I Like the Way she do it, She put her back into it Then she drop it low, to gets the doe I said I Like the Way she do it, She put her back into it Let that ass drop, like my '64 I Said I Like the Way she do it, She put her back into it Then she drop it low, to gets the doe I said I Like the Way she do it, She put her back into it Let that ass drop, like my '64 (Verse 2) Tony Yayo I need a dollar every time that my heart beat Now how much it that I can breath on a track and make money, ahha ahha Now how much is that I'm getting money baby, my truck a Lamborghini I'm in alli bb, where the girls are freaky Haters wanna be me, hoes glad to see me Ma I love it when you lie & say my eyes are dreamy dreamy Certain niggas fall inlove with a bitch, Patron in my dick i think i f**ked blood out a chick I'm in the club frontin, I'm in the club stuntin' 10 Grand to buy the bar, Ma it ain't nothing (Verse 3) Lloyd Banks If home girl wit it, I'm get it, hit it, split it She'll think about me everyday, hour, minute Second to nobody, baby check it you look as good as your chess And when your neck it, I'm ready to f**k A little head in the truck If a tung game good, i'ma let her come up When the sun goes down, I'll be back in the town Stash box down, put the magnum down I'm with G-Unit, C-U Net Nigga you not ballin a the G 2 jet I have it, do u wanna have it, do u need D OPE on the f**king CD its ME (Bridge) 50 Cent I Like the Way she do it I Like the Way she do it I Like the Way she do it I Like the Way she do it (Verse 4) Young Buck She got a nigga on the count down Waitin on it like... Three, two, one Yea right now You got skills on them high heels When we leave this club, I'm take you were I live Do me before I get her I might eat out depending on how I feel Baby girl got a thang for me She do what every I say and I ain't got to make it rain money Go getta and she ghetto with it Told shawty dont do it, but she already did it I'm all on her back, when she move like that You can find me where every she at like yeahh (Chorus) 50 Cent I Said I Like the Way she do it, She put her back into it Then she drop it low, to gets the doe I said I Like the Way she do it, She put her back into it Let that ass drop, like my '64 I Said I Like the Way she do it, She put her back into it Then she drop it low, to gets the doe I said I Like the Way she do it, She put her back into it Let that ass drop, like my '64 |
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