 |
|
- | 
|
||
| from Ransom, V Don - Chaos Is My Ladder (2022) | |||||
 |
|
4:39 |
|
||
| from French Montana - Cocaine Everything (2012) | |||||
 |
|
3:36 |
|
||
| from Styles P - Master Of Ceremonies (2011) | |||||
 |
|
- |
|
||
| from 40 Cal of Dipset - Dipset Mania Special Edition (2011) | |||||
 |
|
2:17 |
|
||
| from God Of War, Vol. 2 (2011) | |||||
 |
|
6:31 | 
|
||
|
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 |
|||||
 |
|
3:20 |
|
||
|
from G-Unit - T.O.S. (Terminate On Sight) (2008)
[50 Cent]
Disrespectful Anything, I let you breathe Now you're dead [Chorus: 50 Cent] There's no room without casualties End up in a wake when you fuck with me You got beef with my man you got beef with me I got the semi on me motherfucker you'll see Devil 'round the corner [50 Cent] Is that my dawg, that slap that cat? Now how did the chicken give birth to a rat? Now how did the rat learn to sing like a bird? His pops is a O.G., this is absurd My gun game right, my knife game right Fuck around I get right, in broad daylight Spin the barrel on a nigga, pin the tail on the donkey It's a zoo out this bitch, I put a hole in the monkey Got the gemstars to rip 'em, hundred shots to clip 'em Bodybags they zip 'em, and we don't know a thang You hit nigga you trippin, you think it's over you trippin Reload slap the clip in, back, back, strapped [Chorus] [Lloyd Banks] Uhh, I drink like a uncle, smoke like a rasta Ball like a superstar, talk like a boxer Fuck like a rabbit, shit like a dinosaur See like a sniper, lil' nigga aim height is raw Ride like a Lambo', stunt like I'm out of town Strap like Commando, B-A-N-K-dollar sign Live everything up I won't, change like the others, nope Switch overnight I can't, I'm outside his camp I'm 'bout a dollar boy and dollar bills'll kill Kill that bullshit, I'm famous but I'm ridin with the steel Will throw it all away, I see you later today You'll see I'm fadin away, that's all I'm able to say [Chorus] [Tony Yayo] Yeah, it's the enforcer Yayo We could do it in broad daylight In front of the White House for all I care I blow your heart out your body sucka Then jump in the Aston blastin, burnin rubber Black ski mask, the Aston tinted Ditch the gun, burn the car cause my DNA in it Next day it's the GT, stunt off of G.P. Fist full of stones, fingers glowin like E.T. Fake O.G., O.G. Bobby Jones Do your son like J-Rock, Mausberg pumpin I'm stuntin, focus like a digital camera Got that P-95 with that invisible hammer Nigga who you tryin to ride on, I'm a icon Heart made of steel, balls made of ir-on [Chorus] [50 Cent] Devil 'round the corner, corner |
|||||
|
|
3:20 |
|
||
|
from G-Unit - T.O.S. (Terminate On Sight) (2008)
[50 Cent]
Disrespectful Anything, I let you breathe Now you're dead [Chorus: 50 Cent] There's no room without casualties End up in a wake when you fuck with me You got beef with my man you got beef with me I got the semi on me motherfucker you'll see Devil 'round the corner [50 Cent] Is that my dawg, that slap that cat? Now how did the chicken give birth to a rat? Now how did the rat learn to sing like a bird? His pops is a O.G., this is absurd My gun game right, my knife game right Fuck around I get right, in broad daylight Spin the barrel on a nigga, pin the tail on the donkey It's a zoo out this bitch, I put a hole in the monkey Got the gemstars to rip 'em, hundred shots to clip 'em Bodybags they zip 'em, and we don't know a thang You hit nigga you trippin, you think it's over you trippin Reload slap the clip in, back, back, strapped [Chorus] [Lloyd Banks] Uhh, I drink like a uncle, smoke like a rasta Ball like a superstar, talk like a boxer Fuck like a rabbit, shit like a dinosaur See like a sniper, lil' nigga aim height is raw Ride like a Lambo', stunt like I'm out of town Strap like Commando, B-A-N-K-dollar sign Live everything up I won't, change like the others, nope Switch overnight I can't, I'm outside his camp I'm 'bout a dollar boy and dollar bills'll kill Kill that bullshit, I'm famous but I'm ridin with the steel Will throw it all away, I see you later today You'll see I'm fadin away, that's all I'm able to say [Chorus] [Tony Yayo] Yeah, it's the enforcer Yayo We could do it in broad daylight In front of the White House for all I care I blow your heart out your body sucka Then jump in the Aston blastin, burnin rubber Black ski mask, the Aston tinted Ditch the gun, burn the car cause my DNA in it Next day it's the GT, stunt off of G.P. Fist full of stones, fingers glowin like E.T. Fake O.G., O.G. Bobby Jones Do your son like J-Rock, Mausberg pumpin I'm stuntin, focus like a digital camera Got that P-95 with that invisible hammer Nigga who you tryin to ride on, I'm a icon Heart made of steel, balls made of ir-on [Chorus] [50 Cent] Devil 'round the corner, corner |
|||||
|
|
4:18 |
|
||
|
from G-Unit - T.O.S. (Terminate On Sight) (2008)
Unstoppable
Incredible Impeccable It's it's the unit Woo woo u know how we do it Woo woo I make u dance to it Woo woo throw up your hands to it Go ahead call the cops come on Girl what's it gonna take to have u close to me right by my side where u suppose to be they start to notice u when they notice me and u can have it all free of charge I know u like europen cars take take a look at my garage make make a week of no menage me in the middle and your legs to the side (50 Cent:) I've got that bentley ferrary that lambo lean My car game crazy I can't be seen The aston bugatti the range and the rovs Got me freakin off with some high class hoes U know with me man anything goes I have shoty in the telly working all 3 hoes Jesuse I bet u won't bealive this unless I let u see this She deep throat my whole coock Now I'm thinking this bitch is so hot I gotta take her to my hood let her blow my whole block Yeah I just happen to be what she likes She said I'm special I'm like yeah babe u right A lil goose a lil patrone tonight I have a club lookin like a fucking zoo aiight New music u can't confuse it with the other cliques or crews it's the unit Girl what's it gonna take to have u close to me right by my side where u suppose to be they start to notice u when they notice me and u can have it all free of charge I know u like europen cars take take a look at my garage make make a week of no menage me in the middle and your legs to the side (Lloyd Banks:) Shorty came over I told her I can mould her Turn her to a rider rub it with a roler Hold up like a cobra hold her till she sober Fold her in positions so it's hard to bend over I'm a very special kind I can't let u shine These rappers out their mind don't come get'em make em rime Take a look at my design my luis fittin fine My jewelry might blind I'm a walking white line U can't get on my level that will take a lifetime And what I got at 25 it'll take ya life time And I don't care about crime as long as it's not mine And I'm a be fine I'm stronger then white line If ya girl ain't home till the early morn She's probably with the g-unit geting it on I told her she's miss right so it can't be wrong And we went at it all night long Girl what's it gonna take to have u close to me right by my side where u suppose to be they start to notice u when they notice me and u can have it all free of charge I know u like europen cars take take a look at my garage make make a week of no menage me in the middle and your legs to the side (Tony Yayo:) For 1 or 10 baby girl off the ripdawg But I ain't trickin I ain't nelly and spitzaw Shake that ass drop it low like a striper Shake that ass drop it low like a striper I'm in love again on them drugs again Same club same spot same girls again Girls comin in and were poopin them bottles By 12 o'clock we be poopin them models Yeah for settle the club go crazy like uh uhh uhh baby Okay bottle of Jose shorty she the portion her friend like heyy Girl jump in watch me go 0 to 60 Take u to the rich slope off your miss sixtys I know u heard of 50 I know u heard of yay I steve nash this hoes pass them all day Girl what's it gonna take to have u close to me right by my side where u suppose to be they start to notice u when they notice me and u can have it all free of charge I know u like europen cars take take a look at my garage make make a week of no menage me in the middle and your legs to the side It's easy man Belive me man This is the unit This is how we do it Banks yay 50 |
|||||
|
|
4:18 |
|
||
|
from G-Unit - T.O.S. (Terminate On Sight) (2008)
Unstoppable
Incredible Impeccable It's it's the unit Woo woo u know how we do it Woo woo I make u dance to it Woo woo throw up your hands to it Go ahead call the cops come on Girl what's it gonna take to have u close to me right by my side where u suppose to be they start to notice u when they notice me and u can have it all free of charge I know u like europen cars take take a look at my garage make make a week of no menage me in the middle and your legs to the side (50 Cent:) I've got that bentley ferrary that lambo lean My car game crazy I can't be seen The aston bugatti the range and the rovs Got me freakin off with some high class hoes U know with me man anything goes I have shoty in the telly working all 3 hoes Jesuse I bet u won't bealive this unless I let u see this She deep throat my whole coock Now I'm thinking this bitch is so hot I gotta take her to my hood let her blow my whole block Yeah I just happen to be what she likes She said I'm special I'm like yeah babe u right A lil goose a lil patrone tonight I have a club lookin like a fucking zoo aiight New music u can't confuse it with the other cliques or crews it's the unit Girl what's it gonna take to have u close to me right by my side where u suppose to be they start to notice u when they notice me and u can have it all free of charge I know u like europen cars take take a look at my garage make make a week of no menage me in the middle and your legs to the side (Lloyd Banks:) Shorty came over I told her I can mould her Turn her to a rider rub it with a roler Hold up like a cobra hold her till she sober Fold her in positions so it's hard to bend over I'm a very special kind I can't let u shine These rappers out their mind don't come get'em make em rime Take a look at my design my luis fittin fine My jewelry might blind I'm a walking white line U can't get on my level that will take a lifetime And what I got at 25 it'll take ya life time And I don't care about crime as long as it's not mine And I'm a be fine I'm stronger then white line If ya girl ain't home till the early morn She's probably with the g-unit geting it on I told her she's miss right so it can't be wrong And we went at it all night long Girl what's it gonna take to have u close to me right by my side where u suppose to be they start to notice u when they notice me and u can have it all free of charge I know u like europen cars take take a look at my garage make make a week of no menage me in the middle and your legs to the side (Tony Yayo:) For 1 or 10 baby girl off the ripdawg But I ain't trickin I ain't nelly and spitzaw Shake that ass drop it low like a striper Shake that ass drop it low like a striper I'm in love again on them drugs again Same club same spot same girls again Girls comin in and were poopin them bottles By 12 o'clock we be poopin them models Yeah for settle the club go crazy like uh uhh uhh baby Okay bottle of Jose shorty she the portion her friend like heyy Girl jump in watch me go 0 to 60 Take u to the rich slope off your miss sixtys I know u heard of 50 I know u heard of yay I steve nash this hoes pass them all day Girl what's it gonna take to have u close to me right by my side where u suppose to be they start to notice u when they notice me and u can have it all free of charge I know u like europen cars take take a look at my garage make make a week of no menage me in the middle and your legs to the side It's easy man Belive me man This is the unit This is how we do it Banks yay 50 |
|||||
|
|
3:48 |
|
||
|
from G-Unit - T.O.S. (Terminate On Sight) (2008)
(feat. Swizz Beatz)
[50 Cent] Yeah, it's the Unit! Yeah (showtime) Swizz! OHH! (M, C) Wooooo! [Chorus: 50 Cent] I run the show! No ifs, ands or buts about it Me fall off? Listen homeboy, I doubt it Me? I gets down, I get down down down I get down, I get down down down I get down, I get down down down I get down, I get down down down [50 Cent] I spit it how I live it man they love it when I talk shit Not three, not two, I'm number one on the chart bitch (yeah) Drama get to poppin even when I don't start shit I turn around there's only two shells left in the cartridge My homies dumb out, my homies dumb out Find out what they 'bout, when the guns come out I got a shitty attitude cause I come from the bullshit Got the ammo on me now, nigga front I'ma pull this [Tony Yayo] In the hood, you rat you die In the hood if you rap you die I'm out the hood gettin fat and high Private jet, it's time to fly Got the Roley with the bezzy gettin head in Dubai And my wolves come out when the moon comes up Before we take a hit, we roll that buddah Hydro and hash take me to the moon Alice I got bad aim but the fiends on the rats, YEAH! [Chorus] [50 Cent] Baby we'll get lotto from Murcielago I race in my driveway; motherfuck the highway Niggaz talk money just not around me I get the cheddar, ask Swizz, I blow the parmesan cheese Like it really means nothin, cause it really means nothin I'm not what you used to, I'm really not frontin Tell the shorties I ain't got time to talk, I'm trickin I want what I want, and what I want I'm gettin [Lloyd Banks] Uhh, forty thou' earlobe, 40-cal gripper That'll make a girl out the "Green Mile" nigga In the street rapper, industry bully It's cold, tees turn to rest-in-peace hoodies (uhh) I gets 'em out, my tricks playin spades I swim in dime pussy, piss Rose Unit rider, my clique don't play I got a pocket full of green now my wrists all gleam [Chorus] [50 Cent] You know if God bless the child with so much swag Now what am I supposed to do with all this cash? Seats less pussy got, all that ass Shakin it and wiggle, your skinny bitch mad AHH! These niggaz ain't hot like we They don't know how to rock the spot like me Smell like I just got out a brand new V My black ass fresh up out of Bentley C's Work with me lil' mama, let's get it Wan' take you down to the flo', shorty I'm wit it I'm on that shit, we on that shit I ain't on that rubber grip, nah nigga don't trip [Chorus] [Swizz Beatz] Wind it up (wooo!) Wind it up (wooo!) Wind it up (wooo!) Hit the flo', flo' (wooo!) That flo', flo' (wooo!) |
|||||
|
|
3:48 |
|
||
|
from G-Unit - T.O.S. (Terminate On Sight) (2008)
(feat. Swizz Beatz)
[50 Cent] Yeah, it's the Unit! Yeah (showtime) Swizz! OHH! (M, C) Wooooo! [Chorus: 50 Cent] I run the show! No ifs, ands or buts about it Me fall off? Listen homeboy, I doubt it Me? I gets down, I get down down down I get down, I get down down down I get down, I get down down down I get down, I get down down down [50 Cent] I spit it how I live it man they love it when I talk shit Not three, not two, I'm number one on the chart bitch (yeah) Drama get to poppin even when I don't start shit I turn around there's only two shells left in the cartridge My homies dumb out, my homies dumb out Find out what they 'bout, when the guns come out I got a shitty attitude cause I come from the bullshit Got the ammo on me now, nigga front I'ma pull this [Tony Yayo] In the hood, you rat you die In the hood if you rap you die I'm out the hood gettin fat and high Private jet, it's time to fly Got the Roley with the bezzy gettin head in Dubai And my wolves come out when the moon comes up Before we take a hit, we roll that buddah Hydro and hash take me to the moon Alice I got bad aim but the fiends on the rats, YEAH! [Chorus] [50 Cent] Baby we'll get lotto from Murcielago I race in my driveway; motherfuck the highway Niggaz talk money just not around me I get the cheddar, ask Swizz, I blow the parmesan cheese Like it really means nothin, cause it really means nothin I'm not what you used to, I'm really not frontin Tell the shorties I ain't got time to talk, I'm trickin I want what I want, and what I want I'm gettin [Lloyd Banks] Uhh, forty thou' earlobe, 40-cal gripper That'll make a girl out the "Green Mile" nigga In the street rapper, industry bully It's cold, tees turn to rest-in-peace hoodies (uhh) I gets 'em out, my tricks playin spades I swim in dime pussy, piss Rose Unit rider, my clique don't play I got a pocket full of green now my wrists all gleam [Chorus] [50 Cent] You know if God bless the child with so much swag Now what am I supposed to do with all this cash? Seats less pussy got, all that ass Shakin it and wiggle, your skinny bitch mad AHH! These niggaz ain't hot like we They don't know how to rock the spot like me Smell like I just got out a brand new V My black ass fresh up out of Bentley C's Work with me lil' mama, let's get it Wan' take you down to the flo', shorty I'm wit it I'm on that shit, we on that shit I ain't on that rubber grip, nah nigga don't trip [Chorus] [Swizz Beatz] Wind it up (wooo!) Wind it up (wooo!) Wind it up (wooo!) Hit the flo', flo' (wooo!) That flo', flo' (wooo!) |
|||||
|
|
4:35 |
|
||
|
from G-Unit - T.O.S. (Terminate On Sight) (2008)
I don't wan' talk about it
(50) Man I don't wanna talk about it (Nah) Man I don't wan' talk about it (Yeah) And I don't wanna talk about it (Wooh) I?m makin? millions quick and I don't wan' talk about it Nah, I don't wanna talk about it I shoot a nigga kid and I don't wan' talk about it Nah, I don't wanna talk about it I fuck the baddest bitches, I don't wan' talk about it Nah, I don't wanna talk about it I'm still flippin? chickens, I don't wan' talk about it (These niggaz police) Nah, I don't wanna talk about it Go 'head, ask me what I'm ridin? in so I can say the Enzo My bitch roll down the window so I could feel the wind blow Got big enough for me to fiddle on my kinfolk Bitches with me cruisin?, Moulin Rougin' They fuckin? and they strippin?, nigga, I ain't even trippin? nigga Me, I handle business, God's my only witness Watchin? homicide, sayin? "Who the fuck did this?" Me I run the street, mayne, so I keep the heat, mayne What you sow is what you reap, when you fuck with the elite, mayne I don't fuck around, boy, you better ask around, boy I hit you with the pound, leave yo' ass on the ground For? You poppin? that bullshit, like I don't pull shit Fully loaded clips and whips, get the grip, clip the bricks Nigga we hittin? licks, stickin? shit, gettin? rich That's why my name ring bells all around this bitch Any hood you go through they know 50 Cent (And I don't wanna talk about it, oh) I'm makin' millions quick and I don't wan' talk about it Nah, I don't wanna talk about it I shoot a nigga kid and I don't wan' talk about it Nah, I don't wanna talk about it I fuck the baddest bitches, I don't wan' talk about it Nah, I don't wanna talk about it I'm still flippin? chickens, I don't wan' talk about it (Yeah, it's the kid, nigga, yeah) Nah, I don't wanna talk about it Aiyyo, big money, my car got the big face, yeah Forty-five, my belt got the big eights Niggaz hate but I'm low seven star Caesar For grimy niggaz tryin? to line me like, ?Oh a preacher? You niggaz got the nerve, I'm at Johannesburg With Mandela nephew blowin? heavy herb Then back to the projects, low from the task force The dope spot's sellin? more shit than Scott Storch I'm tired of these pricks, lyin? 'bout bricks Got my can and my white, my tan like Mariah and Nick Fly in the '60 U.F.O. Unidentified flyin? object on twenty-fo's More money more hoes, more money, more clothes Smoke that AK-48, not bullshit 'dro, yeah I rock big arenas, not bullshit shows And my pants three thousand, these ain't bullshit clothes, oh I?m makin? millions quick and I don't wan' talk about it Nah, I don't wanna talk about it I shoot a nigga kid and I don't wan' talk about it Nah, I don't wanna talk about it I fuck the baddest bitches, I don't wan' talk about it Nah, I don't wanna talk about it I'm still flippin? chickens, I don't wan' talk about it Nah, I don't wanna talk about it (Nah, uh) B A, N K, S 5, 5 0 Or 6 8, M G, tinted with my eyes low Homie, I'm a Tahoe, fully loaded nine blow You see out on hydro, Luciano blind hoe Louis V offended me, your bitch in my Bentley C And weekends are the chills, I'ma fuck her 'til she empty Empty on you if you front, 'til your passenger is stuck Give your ass a brand new scar, in need of a brand new car I ain't them, I'm different, baby, I talk, you listen, baby Listen and I'll show you, how money controls you I'll put you in my old school and let you pop the switch Pocketful in every packet, that's why I'm poppin? shit I don't forgive I don't forget, what you said, where you flip When you get hit, I hope that's it, pop-pop, all on your whip I-I, be on that shit, I'm high, I'm on that piff Bye-bye, you fuckin? bitch, you ain't hot, you ain't rich, you a snitch I?m makin? millions quick and I don't wan' talk about it Nah, I don't wanna talk about it I shoot a nigga kid and I don't wan' talk about it Nah, I don't wanna talk about it I fuck the baddest bitches, I don't wan' talk about it Nah, I don't wanna talk about it I'm still flippin? chickens, I don't wan' talk about it Nah, I don't wanna talk about it |
|||||
|
|
4:35 |
|
||
|
from G-Unit - T.O.S. (Terminate On Sight) (2008)
I don't wan' talk about it
(50) Man I don't wanna talk about it (Nah) Man I don't wan' talk about it (Yeah) And I don't wanna talk about it (Wooh) I?m makin? millions quick and I don't wan' talk about it Nah, I don't wanna talk about it I shoot a nigga kid and I don't wan' talk about it Nah, I don't wanna talk about it I fuck the baddest bitches, I don't wan' talk about it Nah, I don't wanna talk about it I'm still flippin? chickens, I don't wan' talk about it (These niggaz police) Nah, I don't wanna talk about it Go 'head, ask me what I'm ridin? in so I can say the Enzo My bitch roll down the window so I could feel the wind blow Got big enough for me to fiddle on my kinfolk Bitches with me cruisin?, Moulin Rougin' They fuckin? and they strippin?, nigga, I ain't even trippin? nigga Me, I handle business, God's my only witness Watchin? homicide, sayin? "Who the fuck did this?" Me I run the street, mayne, so I keep the heat, mayne What you sow is what you reap, when you fuck with the elite, mayne I don't fuck around, boy, you better ask around, boy I hit you with the pound, leave yo' ass on the ground For? You poppin? that bullshit, like I don't pull shit Fully loaded clips and whips, get the grip, clip the bricks Nigga we hittin? licks, stickin? shit, gettin? rich That's why my name ring bells all around this bitch Any hood you go through they know 50 Cent (And I don't wanna talk about it, oh) I'm makin' millions quick and I don't wan' talk about it Nah, I don't wanna talk about it I shoot a nigga kid and I don't wan' talk about it Nah, I don't wanna talk about it I fuck the baddest bitches, I don't wan' talk about it Nah, I don't wanna talk about it I'm still flippin? chickens, I don't wan' talk about it (Yeah, it's the kid, nigga, yeah) Nah, I don't wanna talk about it Aiyyo, big money, my car got the big face, yeah Forty-five, my belt got the big eights Niggaz hate but I'm low seven star Caesar For grimy niggaz tryin? to line me like, ?Oh a preacher? You niggaz got the nerve, I'm at Johannesburg With Mandela nephew blowin? heavy herb Then back to the projects, low from the task force The dope spot's sellin? more shit than Scott Storch I'm tired of these pricks, lyin? 'bout bricks Got my can and my white, my tan like Mariah and Nick Fly in the '60 U.F.O. Unidentified flyin? object on twenty-fo's More money more hoes, more money, more clothes Smoke that AK-48, not bullshit 'dro, yeah I rock big arenas, not bullshit shows And my pants three thousand, these ain't bullshit clothes, oh I?m makin? millions quick and I don't wan' talk about it Nah, I don't wanna talk about it I shoot a nigga kid and I don't wan' talk about it Nah, I don't wanna talk about it I fuck the baddest bitches, I don't wan' talk about it Nah, I don't wanna talk about it I'm still flippin? chickens, I don't wan' talk about it Nah, I don't wanna talk about it (Nah, uh) B A, N K, S 5, 5 0 Or 6 8, M G, tinted with my eyes low Homie, I'm a Tahoe, fully loaded nine blow You see out on hydro, Luciano blind hoe Louis V offended me, your bitch in my Bentley C And weekends are the chills, I'ma fuck her 'til she empty Empty on you if you front, 'til your passenger is stuck Give your ass a brand new scar, in need of a brand new car I ain't them, I'm different, baby, I talk, you listen, baby Listen and I'll show you, how money controls you I'll put you in my old school and let you pop the switch Pocketful in every packet, that's why I'm poppin? shit I don't forgive I don't forget, what you said, where you flip When you get hit, I hope that's it, pop-pop, all on your whip I-I, be on that shit, I'm high, I'm on that piff Bye-bye, you fuckin? bitch, you ain't hot, you ain't rich, you a snitch I?m makin? millions quick and I don't wan' talk about it Nah, I don't wanna talk about it I shoot a nigga kid and I don't wan' talk about it Nah, I don't wanna talk about it I fuck the baddest bitches, I don't wan' talk about it Nah, I don't wanna talk about it I'm still flippin? chickens, I don't wan' talk about it Nah, I don't wanna talk about it |
|||||
|
|
3:53 |
|
||
|
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 |
|||||
|
|
3:53 |
|
||
|
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 |
|||||
|
|
3:49 |
|
||
|
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] |
|||||
|
|
3:49 |
|
||
|
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] |
|||||
|
|
3:06 |
|
||
|
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 |
|||||
|
|
3:06 |
|
||
|
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 |
|||||
|
|
4:14 |
|
||
|
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 |
|||||
|
|
4:14 |
|
||
|
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 |
|||||
|
|
3:54 |
|
||
|
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] |
|||||
|
|
3:54 |
|
||
|
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] |
|||||
|
|
3:30 |
|
||
|
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] |
|||||
|
|
3:30 |
|
||
|
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] |
|||||
|
|
3:21 |
|
||
|
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] |
|||||
|
|
3:21 |
|
||
|
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] |
|||||
|
|
3:39 |
|
||
|
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] |
|||||
|
|
3:39 |
|
||
|
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] |
|||||
|
|
2:49 |
|
||
|
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 |
|||||
|
|
2:49 |
|
||
|
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 |
|||||
|
|
2:36 |
|
||
|
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 |
|||||
|
|
2:36 |
|
||
|
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 |
|||||
|
|
4:11 |
|
||
|
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 |
|||||
|
|
4:11 |
|
||
|
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 |
|||||
|
|
3:47 |
|
||
|
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 |
|||||
|
|
3:47 |
|
||
|
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 |
|||||
 |
|
3:58 |
|
||
|
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 |
|||||
 |
|
- |
|
||
| from Lloyd Banks - Mo`Money In The Bank (2008) | |||||
|
|
- |
|
||
|
from Lloyd Banks - Mo`Money In The Bank (2008)
The name's Banks! The boy wonder man
stack and a rubber band, gat in the other hand (Lloyd Banks) These lil niggas dont move me, go watch a movie im too smooth, white prada shoes with the dooey i spin ya f**kin neck when i speed the thru the ceilin is see-thru, all you top billin off of me too you might as well give ya money to me shorty cant dance in the strip club when your 40 come here, i show you how to get it if you with it if you let me i can teach you how to take it to the top with a bottle of Cris lady youll be naked on the spot gassed up from the conversation in the drop it wont be gifts or vacation to the trop's this hard dick bubble gum stake him in the pots i got a brand new semi out the box just in case a nigga think he smooth enuff to sneak in youll be one eyed shorter from the slaughter and ill be on the yacht round water out in Florida f**k the drama wassup, ya hammers in the truck u butt, so chill or ima have to f**k you up for real cristal bottle in ya grill, ill youll be in ground before glass teeth and blood spill they all know im a threat hoppin out the Lex i got a bitch for every letter in the alphabet like Aron and Brandy, Cary and Donna Erica and Felicia i nicknamed her Gabbana light skinned Heather i met her around the way and theres a few names that i aint suppose to say so ima skip to J, 'cause Jasmine and Jeniffer jaw bone in, Jessica come runs by the messenger they all know when it come to the hoes i get em down and they on under clothes, in them bundlelobes nah i dont need an umbrella the car come with those and to get one of those, youll need 100 shows im all summer froze, so the gun exposed ill gun butt ya f**ker, heres a bloody nose yea that was yo bitch, but the dummy chose yea im grimy as f**k you got to love it tho shorty caught feelings after i stroked her so what take a picture write a book call Oprah Blow Up" youll find a ice pic in a flow with a coke colored coupe white whip in the snow me and the bread bandin like a pimp and a hoe like smoker or the pipe like the coke on the phypes i dont continue nothin im the stroker her on the night on the sofa or the floor, hoe chokin off the mic like Banks i dont usually do, well they usually do and theyll all learn to like it you get used to it too niggas starin at my chain 'cause it use to be blue but i changed like you, deuce deuce in his shoe im on kush, cranberry juice goose and im thru then its back to the mansion to do what i do im back nigga, this is part 2 the hunger for more money im right at ya door dummy ?? pops bottles up, nigga im by the buck dont look at the Ferrari you cant even buy the truck ya boy fresh out the hood and he hot as f**k on a hunt for the cheese, keep ya ricatta tucked they on that plottin shit, right in the lobby shit run up in my yard and run around with the shoddy shit family members identified in a body shit 'cause it been so long, that John Gotti shit im in the 2-0-0 Maserati whip concrete colored Mclaren its a hobby shit HAHAH AAAHHHHHH!!!!! SEE YOU NIGGAS ON TOP MAN |
|||||
|
|
- |
|
||
| from Lloyd Banks - Mo`Money In The Bank (2008) | |||||
|
|
- |
|
||
| from Lloyd Banks - Mo`Money In The Bank (2008) | |||||
|
|
- |
|
||
| from Lloyd Banks - Mo`Money In The Bank (2008) | |||||
|
|
- |
|
||
| from Lloyd Banks - Mo`Money In The Bank (2008) | |||||
|
|
- |
|
||
| from Lloyd Banks - Mo`Money In The Bank (2008) | |||||
|
|
- |
|
||
|
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 |
|||||
|
|
- |
|
||
| from Lloyd Banks - Mo`Money In The Bank (2008) | |||||
|
|
- |
|
||
| from Lloyd Banks - Mo`Money In The Bank (2008) | |||||
|
|
- |
|
||
| from Lloyd Banks - Mo`Money In The Bank (2008) | |||||
|
|
- |
|
||
|
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. |
|||||
|
|
- |
|
||
| from Lloyd Banks - Mo`Money In The Bank (2008) | |||||
|
|
- |
|
||
|
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) |
|||||
|
|
- |
|
||
| from Lloyd Banks - Mo`Money In The Bank (2008) | |||||
|
|
- |
|
||
| from Lloyd Banks - Mo`Money In The Bank (2008) | |||||
|
|
- |
|
||
| from Lloyd Banks - Mo`Money In The Bank (2008) | |||||
|
|
- |
|
||
|
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!!) |
|||||
|
|
- |
|
||
|
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 |
|||||
|
|
- |
|
||
|
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 |
|||||
|
|
- |
|
||
| from Lloyd Banks - Mo`Money In The Bank (2008) | |||||
|
|
- |
|
||
| from Lloyd Banks - Mo`Money In The Bank (2008) | |||||
 |
|
3:00 |
|
||
|
from Lloyd Banks - Rotten Apple (2006)
Yea G-Unit
I think I gotta have it Its keeps pullin' me in like a magnet Going with this kinda music puts me right back on the block, block Its like crack to an addict It ain't to hard for me to grab it Going with this kinda music puts me right back on the block, block Uh man I think I'm addicted to the life that I had So I risk it runnin' the street with the heat boy Three deep in the S-U-V the bigger you blow the less you see The more you hear a real nigga lost his life right there Its hard to believe a flippers the reason he's not here Damn and still get killed over somethin' that ain't his And jeapordize the well bein of him and his kids That's how it is cigs in old cribs dudes that tote pigs Live with broke ribs or went under the dirt with the worms The results of the colds pack funeral homes You know the names cause we tatooin' 'em on I'm gone just cruisin' back 2 in the mornin' So fuck rap I'm comin' at you in the song When you hear the (click clack) point it at you n your gone I think I gotta have it Its keeps pullin' me in like a magnet Going with this kinda music puts me right back on the block, block Its like crack to an addict It ain't to hard for me to grab it Going with this kinda music puts me right back on the block, block Ey I got my pockets right my rocks are bright The drop is blue n the watch is white Right that's why they watchin' me As far as I can see its all mockery And I'm tryna be all I can be Now that my foots in the door there's no stoppin' me Pure poetry I got a little pac in me Now internationally they jockin' me Cause my money green n blue like monopoly Yea I left a name all around the globe Yet still south side I was brought up by the code (south side) N I was told everything ain't gold its cause the glitter And had to drown the pain with the liquer The world don't turn unless the money move The early bird get the worm and the dummy's lose True you hear the struggle and the grind when I talk I breathe and I bleed new york I think I gotta have it Its keeps pullin' me in like a magnet Going with this kinda music puts me right back on the block, block Its like crack to an addict It ain't to hard for me to grab it Going with this kinda music puts me right back on the block, block |
|||||
|
|
2:46 |
|
||
|
from Lloyd Banks - Rotten Apple (2006)
Money, money, money, money
Cake I need the cake nigga The Unit don't play, we rap but we strapped Buck got the shotgun, 50 got the mack Spida got the sweeper and you bound to hear it clap You won't have another birthday cake afta that Cause Yayo got a temper and he don't know how to act I've been gone all winter but now a nigga back To get the money, the money The money, the money, the cake And you mutha fuckas lookin' like steak Food on the plate for the wolves, follow wolves Don't get moved by the tools Blood will ooze on ya shoes wait, control ya hate You ain't ridin' in dem 6s Cause you spendin' all ya cake on dem bitches I need the bread lil' niggas need Christmas Banks don't rap wit a back pack I'm in it for the money, the money The money, the money, the cake You heard Banks said so I know I got the mack I pull up, pull out spray hollows at your back I don't give a fuck, it's goin' down like that I done been through every hood, dead niggas gone rap In the heart of a victim murda is monumental I don't complicate shit, yeah I keep it simple My bullet wounds will tell you a story 'bout wut I been through Southside trama drama wit' gallamas I conversate wit' killas, it's usually about life Politicate wit' lawness, it's usually 'bout white I'm da poster child of violence, I'm the boy on the poster When the shots start to rang out I'm the boy wit' the toaster Yeah, listen up clicko, I hustle I get though You fuckin' wit a sicko, I spazz let a clip go Cannon out da rental, beam to ya temple I squeeze blow your mental, all ova ya friends Me I'm from the street, where nothin' sweet The home of the hommies, there's a body every week Now I don't hear the sirens but they prolly gonna creep Plottin' to pull me ova, put the cake in my jeep So I'll be skippin' cities seven states in aweek Can't a mutha fuckin' breathin' tell me I can't 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 you 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 Cake Money, money, money, money Cake |
|||||
|
|
3:35 |
|
||
|
from Lloyd Banks - Rotten Apple (2006)
Yea uh
I like the way that sounds Uh uh N-N-N-N-N-N-Now Check Check Nigga you feelin' like a frog when you jump One leap will bring ya from the bar to the trunk From the trunk to the dump I'm a rain on em, put the chump on a slump Like a rib shot, that's what the customers want Don't ya?, This ain't ya typical story The fore I don't fall in the category I'm cool, calm and collective, Yukon or the Lexis Blue chronic for breakfast, to match with the necklace Dimes all way down till the rats wanna check this Reckless, born treacherous, sworn specialist Especially, if ya rest next to me Nigga come testin' me you'll get the gun recipe These old niggas want the new born sound Actin' like they don't know who hold New York down Yea I use to buy Knick's, ten years later Now I'm super fly slick without a roof on my whip, shit I slip 100 proof till I'm ripped And wave at the haters, got em root canal sick Tell me you niggas like to make a scene so the lamas close That kind of shit don't fly like Mama jokes We got em long, short, all kind of toast Boy I done left shit trails all around the coast To places you gettin' 'round by boat I get a pound, I smoke, I put it down, I'm dope I'm on scope when I pass the block, I make traffic stop A product of everything that made the apple rot This apple jacks, way long before the platinum plaques The pro-tools and the wax Take a step back before ya catch a contact The flow's like a M-16 wit the arm strapped I'm a bomb on these niggas till they can't bomb back The Hiroshima demeanor, microphone crack [Chorus] A lot of shit has changed since I came Y'all done came around here fuckin' up the game Therefore I ain't servin' nothin' but the pain You playin', I'm hungrier than a motherfucka' man Rob a store before you walk around poor Cause you ain't gettin' from me you grown boy You fuelin' up my fire when you hate So I'm a lean on you till you make a mistake I can't wait And to the curtains close Its just me, the tooly, and them purple O's, Endo overload, drive like I own the roads These niggas is puss, that's why my shoulders cold Mac by the toilet bowl I'm ridin' filthy in the Beamer Cause I can have lima and a colina bring it to a misdemeanor You drown in deep water Every nigga around come from the street corner Where you need your heat on ya I'm on recline while my next CD climb South Side greedy dine, red wine, DB 9 N-Y-P-D grind, why?, it ain't a easy grind A nigga try to get mine I'm a feed him nine And its graffiti time, niggas sprayin' your mural For tryin' to be a motherfuckin' hero I'm fresh, fly and flashy, best guy if you ask me Jet by on em nasty, nigga you in a taxi I can't wait [Chorus] Ha ha ha Yea, ugh, G,G,G,G,G-Unit Boy |
|||||
|
|
5:01 |
|
||
|
from Lloyd Banks - Rotten Apple (2006)
Front on me and get clapped
Front on him and get clapped Front on us and get clapped (you get clapped nigga) Front on me and get clapped Front on him and get clapped Front on us and get clapped (get clapped get clapped) [Chorus] I know this feel different cause everything is good They actin' like I changed like I went Hollywood Like I don't keep it street like I ain't got the heat Like I ain't homicide all over the beat Like I ain't for the beef like I don't really care Cause I ain't camera shy we can do it any where There's diamonds in my chain there's diamonds in my ear A nigga come slippin' ill make him disappear Ay nigga fuck all the slick talk get bread instead Stay low strapped up metal on inf red Too smooth won't slip new jewels don't trip Been around the world twice jet, lear, boat, whip Oh shit, I'm hella rowdy and I'm nothin' nice Money ain't shit but a number name ya fuckin' price Dick rider, coat taylor, ass kisser Sucker for love, time to pick up the glass slipper Look around ass nigga before you add liquer Cause bein' an add libber he'll be ina bag with ya I'm seein' a bad picture of bein' a cab skipper Broke as fuck waitin' for Satan to come and get ya Keep ya clique tight know ya goals Don't speed slow ya role don't speak learn the code For they pop ya ass barbecue ya body With beans outta the shotty while I'm in the Maserati With somethin' that's gonna swallow me [Chorus] My trigga finger feenin' that nigga p a demon Nigga my fangs start showin' if I'm seein' you dreamin' Get to close and I'm bustin' it won't be no discussion I'm a boss I don't speak I just nod my head And you turn up missin' with ya own page in the feds I got power and I will flex on you real quick Call ya dawgs call ya trick hug ya moms for you split 'cause you ain't never gone see that bitch again And this ain't a war nigga we just havin' fun with ya Like a bed with a baby if I smack ya I might kill ya Half a million in diamonds half a billion from rhymin' N I'm steady climbin' that means I'm still blowin up Got you burned while you lookin' see my Ferrari in Brooklyn On the corner of murda and duke so come through Ill light ya buildin' on fire that's why these rappers retire 'cause they tired of dealin' with niggas like me [Chorus] Now enough with all the lame shit and wrestlin' games kid I need the rocks to fill the rest of the chain with I need the block to feel the best that I came with I need the cops to get the fuck off of my dick Different day same shit media and paparazzi love Envy and betrayal my hearts as cold as hockey gloves I light up and take off that beef and broccoli high Chocolate tie, green skunk, south Jamaica queens punk Stand up ya boys back put ya grams up Get money you ain't heard nothin' but a hit from me Quit dummy cause its a changin' of the guards Beat bitches over the head the caveman of the squad And he barely fell victim cause they raised him up so hard So my 9 is on my hip and my praise is up to god Cause we in a battle field where the razors lead to scars And the lazers lead to holes, slugs in n out ya clothes [Chorus] (Yea) Hey Yo p, fuck these niggas man Ill buck these niggas man, can't nobody else get no money Cause this is our year, next year is our year The year after is our year, the year after is our year (Yea) G,G,G,G,G G-Unit |
|||||
|
|
4:00 |
|
||
|
from Lloyd Banks - Rotten Apple (2006)
Yeah, ooh
You n****s know what time it is? It's time for that gangsta s*** We ain't got s*** to live for You either headed for the pen Or you're on your way to Gilmore In the middle of the real war 'Cause a five dollar bill is the s*** n****s kill for I make a million out, yeah I don't care about a muthaf***a out there My heart cold and my wrist rock And I f*** around and die over Hip Hop I treat a dollar like a mill, countin' every bill 'Cause if I don't watch mine another muthaf***a will I went double but I still tuck the s**** I'm the truth, why the f*** you think 50 cut the deal Rollin' in a bag of * when you cut the seal When I bling the paint job on a Coupe De Ville I ain't never had a pop, poppa never had a son Nobody to go get, so I ain't never run They chat behind my back but they quiet when I come They treat a lil' n**** like a giant with a gun I walk with a swagger like I always had money 'Cause I know, they rather see my black a** bummy Ain't nuthin' funny just a whole lotta anger Mind of a leader, drama of a gang banger If a n**** come on property I ain't gonna call There'll be a splatter on ya shirt and it ain't paint ball We ain't got s*** to live for You either headed for the pen Or you're on your way to Gilmore In the middle of the real war 'Cause a five dollar bill is the s*** n****s kill for I make a million out, yeah I don't care about a muthaf***a out there My heart cold and my wrist rock And I f*** around and die over Hip Hop I don't follow no rules I'm gettin' in here with the t*** And if I don't, we gonn' burn this muthaf***a down I'm comin' through swingin' like they do in H-Town And I roll down the window and spin ya b**** face around I'm a stunna, hoggin' up the lane like the Hummer Till the wheel run dry like the rain in the summer Even the broke n**** can't afford to go to sleep F*** around and get ya head p****** all over the street And I ain't got nuthin' for 'em but the heat My lil' brother want jewelry and Jordan's on his feet Now, they recognize if ya slaughterin' the beat And if it wasn't for rappin', I'd have ya daughter on the street I been the same since Kane and Slick Rick had it Now n****s die in the car, my whole whip had it I worked too hard to let a n**** have it So I pack the A******** for the sideline static, yeah We ain't got s*** to live for You either headed for the pen Or you're on your way to Gilmore In the middle of the real war 'Cause a five dollar bill is the s*** n****s kill for I make a million out, yeah I don't care about a muthaf***a out there My heart cold and my wrist rock And I f*** around and die over Hip Hop |
|||||
|
|
4:00 |
|
||
|
from Lloyd Banks - Rotten Apple (2006)
I Wasn't gone if you missed me
Put 'em up Put 'em up put 'em up put 'em up put 'em up Put 'em up put 'em up put 'em up put 'em up Hands up shorty when you party with me we goin' way past quarter to three I said Hands Up I'm good in the V I P I got my hammer right here with me I said Hands Up You know when you party with crooks you gotta learn to respect the jooks I said Hands Up Everything ain't cruise to fame this shit ain't sweet as it looks I said Hands Up You know I'm puttin' something on me right before I leave outta the car We came to party You don't tough talkin' at me you gon' leave outta the club with a scar We came to party We pop bottles like it's all free fo' I leave I'ma buy out the bar We came to party You can order what you want it's on me I'm a G take a look at star We came to party It feels so good to live sucker free I'm soakin' it all up while your girl suckin' me It mean the world to her it's nothing but a nut to me Look miss get a grip and let a motherfucker be I'm a rap star Who wants to be ridin' around in that car Two in the front and the back got the plasma This ain't a free ride you gotta have the gas mile I wouldn't buy a chick a pump that got asthma And I'm busy so I move a bit faster You can't tell me yes if I don't ask ya Huh I'm a bastard Damn near showin' his hand over the plastic Cause they wanna see your man go in the casket Rule number one keep your gun and get your ass hit that's it Lights off and your body's stiff By the same niggas you used to party with Hands up shorty when you party with me we goin' way past quarter to three I said Hands Up I'm good in the V I P I got my hammer right here with me I said Hands Up You know when you party with crooks you gotta learn to respect the jooks I said Hands Up Everything ain't cruise to fame this shit ain't sweet as it looks I said Hands Up You know I'm puttin' something on me right before I leave outta the car We came to party You don't tough talkin' at me you gon' leave outta the club with a scar We came to party We pop bottles like it's all free fo' I leave I'ma buy out the bar We came to party You can order what you want it's on me I'm a G take a look at star We came to party I cruise through the strip 22's on the whip New rule gonna hit Thousand dollar outfit Never snooze never slip Follow rules or get whip Nigga move or get hit I don't care who's on the strip It ain't only the Ferrari now the jewels got him sick Now it's 2006 I need a new bottom miss It's aight they can talk I'm amused by the pricks I'm the news out the bricks nigga who's hot as this I bet the mansion and the swimming pool got 'em pissed I ain't a cuddler I fuck the drool outta chick My niggas ice grill but it ain't the same They don't see the faces they don't see the chains Like Ooo when you get 'em they don't know you with me They probably think the bouncers at the front door frisk me This is regular shit the erryday mentality They charged up don't make me put in the battery Hands up shorty when you party with me we goin' way past quarter to three I said Hands Up I'm good in the V I P I got my hammer right here with me I said Hands Up You know when you party with crooks you gotta learn to respect the jooks I said Hands Up Everything ain't cruise to fame this shit ain't sweet as it looks I said Hands Up You know I'm puttin' something on me right before I leave outta the car We came to party You don't tough talkin' at me you gon' leave outta the club with a scar We came to party We pop bottles like it's all free fo' I leave I'ma buy out the bar We came to party You can order what you want it's on me I'm a G take a look at star We came to party Put 'em up put 'em up put 'em up put 'em up Put 'em up put 'em up put 'em up put 'em up Put 'em up put 'em up put 'em up put 'em up Put 'em up put 'em up put 'em up put 'em up |
|||||
|
|
3:55 |
|
||
|
from Lloyd Banks - Rotten Apple (2006)
G-Unit
Uh, a one two, a one two Uh, a one two, a one two Yeah Uh, a one two, a one two Excuse me miss, you must be some kind of a model Enough to make a shopper run out of the column Enough to make a weak nigga go mano why mano Guess what you strong as rum out of the bottle God bless you when he made me I mean he blessed me when he made you I got a little game to They know me everywhere I go that's what fame do Where we can get it on the low what's your name blue? You stuck in your ways but I know how to change you Arrange you tell you things like your my angel There's no rules when it comes to this, write down your number miss They call me Banks, my government is Chris They feel me in the burbs, love me in the bricks Four inch whips, on a buggy six First class trips and the bubbly's Cris I work so hard to live like this My past make me so weak But you make me stronger 'Cause everything was upside down Now I'm right back where I belong Help, I think Cupid got me Shock me all over my body I think I'm losin' my cool So I'm doin' things I don't do Yeah, I got it hop in the ride so I could holla My favorite girl outside of my Impala I ain't gon' say you a dream I don't gotta You could walk around in the street with no problems I pick up all the G that he speaks so don't bother The innocent role ain't workin' work harder I ain't tryin' to lock you down I'm no father But maybe we can go for it if you just listen It's hard as hell for a man in my position They pickin' your girl out you gotta know the difference I wonder if it's even in one in existence Enough to keep my attention to go the distance And I'm have to look hard to find a better one 'Cause you sex is a 187 'hon You get a nigga doin' shit I ain't never done So now even when I'm on tour I let her come My past make me so weak But you make me stronger 'Cause everything was upside down Now I'm right back where I belong Help, I think Cupid got me Shock me all over my body I think I'm losin' my cool So I'm doin' things I don't do You're not the ones like I'm used to I see us happy in our future I'm givin' you all I have My heart, my soul, my laugh 'Cause you are the only thing I need I could have everything and more Give you the feelin' you can't ignore My past make me so weak But you make me stronger 'Cause everything was upside down Now I'm right back where I belong Help, I think Cupid got me Shock me all over my body I think I'm losin' my cool So I'm doin' things I don't do |
|||||
|
|
5:27 |
|
||
|
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 |
|||||
|
|
4:46 |
|
||
|
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 |
|||||
|
|
3:30 |
|
||
|
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 |
|||||
|
|
3:57 |
|
||
|
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... |
|||||
|
|
3:44 |
|
||
|
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 |
|||||
|
|
4:28 |
|
||
|
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] |
|||||
|
|
3:10 |
|
||
|
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] |
|||||
|
|
3:47 |
|
||
|
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] |
|||||
|
|
4:05 |
|
||
|
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] |
|||||
 |
|
- |
|
||
|
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 |
|||||
 |
|
1:57 |
|
||
| from Dj Greg Street, Dj Kay Slay - The Champions : North Meets South (2006) | |||||
 |
|
- |
|
||
| from Too $hort - Pimpin' (2006) | |||||
 |
|
- |
|
||
| from The Game - Charge It To The Game/ The Mixtape (2005) | |||||
|
|
- |
|
||
| from The Game - Charge It To The Game/ The Mixtape (2005) | |||||
 |
|
- |
|
||
|
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 |
|||||
 |
|
- |
|
||
| from Purple City, Moe Sticky - Purple City Byrdgang: Hatin' from the Sideline (2005) | |||||
 |
|
- |
|
||
|
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] |
|||||
 |
|
3:23 |
|
||
|
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) |
|||||
 |
|
3:07 |
|
||
|
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 |
|||||
|
|
2:50 |
|
||
|
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> |
|||||
 |
|
4:25 |
|
||
|
from Lloyd Banks - The Hunger For More (2004)
<i>[Tony Yayo]</i>
Yee nigga Fuckin back hunger for more Tony's home Yo Banks I told these niggas man <i>[Lloyd Banks]</i> Yall done fucked up now Yee! Yeeeeee! <i>[Tony Yayo]</i> Here We go <i>[Chorus: Lloyd Banks]</i> Aint no click like the one I'm with If the drama gets thick its the guns I get (Now) G Unit niggaz is runnin this shit (Now) If you aint reppin where you from then sit (Down) We gettin dough everywhere we go And it's killin 'em slow just to hear me blow (Now) G Unit niggaz is runnin this shit (Now) If you aint reppin where you from sit down <i>[Verse 1: Lloyd Banks]</i> By now I know you done seen me On your stadium or TV with three eighty on the EV I skeet babies on your breezy And I aint stoppin Only Jake the Jacob could freeze me Leaves me and its bye bye gone We got guns like Pop-eye arms I put a ring on their finger But the rats still askin Cause theres one in all they mind Im the Rap Phil Jackson N I built a rep for murderin every Whoo Kid, Kayslay and Big Mike Admit it the kid tight, And you aint even put up a fight So its back to da amatures, Wrapped in ya sandwhiches I'm hot now so the rats wanna stand with us They hop in the van with us and clap on cameras I hit the clubs now I'm back tourin Canada Amongst weed smokers, and crap floor gamblers <i>[Chorus]</i> <i>[Verse 2: Lloyd Banks]</i> Make sure the birds dont get brought to 'em I watched Kobe go from the basketball court to the courtroom Go ahead try n do me harm soldier You'll be in a black bag like grass out the lawnmower And I'll be damn if I co-sign a old snitch That was gangbangin when jaws was a goldfish I'm the name they all screamin on the street For bullyin the bassline and leanin on the beat I'm well known now so you see me on the creeps Schemin on a freak fan blade leanin on a jeep Aint walkin with the fire, so if you say banks in ya verse then you better be talkin bout Tyra From PA to LA, Atlanta to Texas, Nashville to Memphis, My buzz is tremendous I pass thru the city slow, but the hit the gas on the silly hoe Bounce like ass in my video <i>[Chorus: Lloyd Banks]</i> Aint no click like the one I'm with If the drama gets thick its the guns I get (Now) G Unit niggaz is runnin this shit (Now) If you aint reppin where you from then sit (Down) We gettin dough everywhere we go And it's killin 'em slow just to hear me blow (Now) G Unit niggaz is runnin this shit (Now) If you aint reppin where you from sit down <i>[Verse 3: Tony Yayo]</i> (Ayo banks let me put some work in, its been a while) Ayo, uno, dos, tres, cuatro My clique eat like the 12 holy apostles And bust down models in flushed out tahoes Jewels froze look like we hit the lotto P89, my clip filled wit hollows Stun in the club get hit with yellow bottles Don't speak ma, if your neck dont swallow Cuz 50 push bentleys and Dre push Diablos That Eminem money got cash in my eskro Scrooge Mcduck stays swimmin' in my cash flow Yay rappers cracked man I got the best blow Best flow, Banks put me in the booth lets go Think like castro, Games in the lasso Dont jump in the Benz without steps on the petro God gave me this flow so I am special and 16 bars nigga I'm finished, finito! <i>[Chorus]</i> <i>[Tony Yayo]</i> We Told YAll Muthafuckas Man! Yall Niggas Look Like Us And Smell Like Us But Your Not Us Man! Lloyd Banks Hunger For More! We Back Nigga! 50 The General! Young Dezzy Buck! Game! The Rap Game Is Ours Nigga! Hunger For More! Rida Music Nigga! This For Them Gangsta, Them Generals, Them Comrades! Uh Huh! This Is Rida Music! (HaHa) |
|||||
|
|
3:14 |
|
||
|
from Lloyd Banks - The Hunger For More (2004)
<i>[VERSE 1]</i>
(uh huh) I keep my hip on pound Cause chickens hectic in my town Drag my family with me cause that's how real niggas get down (gea) If it wasn't for 50 I probably wouldn't be around (gea) Caught up in the temptation sitting in jail or in the ground (gea) If for that if you snap a finger and I'll lay a nigga down (whoo) It's fucked up when you're only facial expression is a frown (uh huh) A hood rat will put a future in a fool's pants Till she find out you can't buy furniture with food stamps (uh huh) A year ago I made a decision before I shut my eyelids Better if I get shot tomorrow cause I don't like surprises When you hot as an oven they with open arms When you cold as a freezer niggas treat you like they don't need ya Some people call it ?? me I call it amnesia Live my life principal driven never bite that hand that feeds you (uh) Never mind all the haters fuck'em all let them die slow All I need is my niggas, money, liquor and hydro (I kno) <i>[CHORUS x2]</i> Everybody gon' die one day Whether it's natural cause it's a gunplay But fuckin with me you sliding down a one way I keep it gangsta from Monday to Sunday <i>[VERSE 2]</i> Don't blame me Blame my mom and pop for breeding this (uh huh) The game needed this Lloyd Banks AKA Mr. I don't feed a bitch Don't need a bitch I stay there when I need a bitch You want a trick you need to switch Cause I don't think you could beat this bitch (whoa) This is all I gotta have to blow So whether it's fast or slow Platinum flow making it easy to kidnap a hoe (uh huh) Pop the back Pass the dro Roll about a half an O The git citizenship my pimp is international (yee) You gotta agree These motherfuckas will probably find Bin Laden before they find a nigga hotter than me We on top as far as I can see And since the hood watching me My regular trip to the mall is a shopping spree (damn) I'm the #1 draft pick none of ya'll are topping me (uh huh) I move around with the plastic you ain't dropping me (uh huh) They show me love on my city They fuckin with me and I'm fuckin with them Nigga G-Unit till the end (Gea) <i>[CHORUS x2]</i> <i>[Lloyd Banks]</i> Ya six inches from a coffin (coffin) So I suggest you stop talkin (talkin) And make me result to violence (violence) And you'll no longer be walkin (walkin) Ya six inches from a coffin (coffin) So I suggest you stop talkin (talkin) And make me result to violence (violence) Nigga.. (nigga) Yeee.. You gotta love it! |
|||||
|
|
4:10 |
|
||
|
from Lloyd Banks - The Hunger For More (2004)
I know I ain't supposed to smoke in here
But Mr. Bouncer man don't put your motherfuckin' hands on me Can I get high without you botherin' me? Everybody you see in here tonight Doin' the same thing so why you keep playa hatin' on me Can I get high without you botherin' me? [Chorus: x2] La la la la. I be smokin' It hitten me right I'll be loakin' Them bullshit trees you be rollin' Barely give you a buzz, me I get high I admit I got a problem, I keep comin' back for these Dodo bags there not your yak or your sack o' seeds I chill sit back on the sofa and relax my knees And roll one up loose enough to make the backwards breathe I blow a heavy load, you kids attract some G's. Cause I'm a smoker, too much o' this would choke ya' I don't mean to provoke ya, but I'm a bad influence The musician can't operate without his instruments My recent success gradually got your bitch convinced Haters mad they can't look inside cause I pitched the tints I enter the club with baggies of that chocolate Second-hand smoke will make a nigga wanna start shit. Sometimes I wonder where the niggas from the start went Raise up a lighter and fuck up the whole apartment. It's just one of the things I do in my spare time My bad habits ain't private so I'm gon' share mine. [Chorus: x2] See they put their hands out cause of the way shit been I say you niggers ain't smokin' if you don't chip in. Listen. I waited long for these rocks to glisten From that one-room pad without a pot to piss in Although betrayal is not forgiven I do this for my niggas locked up that's comin' home to lobster livin' Hopin' the cops forbiddin' I'm bout to buy momma her own mansion Just so I could see her pop the ribbon. That Cali bud's special, so special I held the blunt so long Snoop had to tell me "Pass the weed, Nephew" Fuck rap I'm the wrong one to get pissed off Cause the pope'll make you jump like criss cross. My nigga dead and it's hard to let go, So I'm blowin' on that wet dough, same color as Gecko Follow hood codes and everybody in the Sentinel We gas 'em Fuck 'em and Pass 'em what you expect hoe? [Chorus: x2] Said you want to blow with the best of them Yes yes I bested them Blazed up the purple palm tree I told you don't mess with them I warned them new testament Do you wanna smoke with me? (do you wanna) Weed rollin', G-strollin', bad-mouthin', mofucker Law breakin' Pimp, slappin niggas for the fuck of it Hip-hop an zip lock an rip rockin' gang banger Thought you was an actor, thought I was a singer Thought about ridin' but you say you wanna hang tough D-P-G-Unit sounds like danger You might wanna manage your anger Hang with us and stop smokin' on the same stuff Now lay back on the loft This new weed that I got I call it face-off Cause it'll blow your face off and that's a figure of speech, My niggas a beast, on me from the west to the east, preach [Chorus: x2] Sha da da |
|||||
|
|
4:00 |
|
||
|
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] |
|||||
|
|
3:31 |
|
||
| from Lloyd Banks - The Hunger For More (2004) | |||||
|
|
4:39 |
|
||
|
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] |
|||||
|
|
3:07 |
|
||
|
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 |
|||||
|
|
4:32 |
|
||
|
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! |
|||||
|
|
3:01 |
|
||
|
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) |
|||||
|
|
5:10 |
|
||
|
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 |
|||||
|
|
2:48 |
|
||
|
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! |
|||||
|
|
3:38 |
|
||
|
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< |
|||||
|
