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2004 warm up - lloyd banks lyrics

[intro]
ay yo what’s up you know who the f-ck this is!
it’s the kid banks ya heard me?
the number 1 f-ckin draft pick in any hood! g-g-g-g-unit!

[verse 1]
banks bout the bubble like crush grapes
i don’t give a f-ck weight, but bring me my cut laid in this ducktape
my heart’s colder than upstate
so i ain’t got time for relationships give me a sl-t date
i’m far from sweet but can’t get enough cake
n-gga i’ll put you on your -ss like tough breaks
b-tch you could be rich, if you can spend babies
i disrespect n-ggas, call men ladies
where i’m from the gun sound like m-80’s
timbs all year: black, brown and gravy
banks got a gun that’ll back down the navy
so if you owe me: get smacked down or pay me
i’m honest it ain’t no lies
n-gga i don’t even need in restaurants if it ain’t no fries
i throw combos: 6’s, 4’s, and 5’s
don’t put your hand out, if it ain’t for a five
these rap n-ggas following me like tour guides
talking gangsta like they got more lives
i pound out p-ssy leave ’em with sore thighs
n-gga i been f-cking with t-ts with before eyes
you might see me in the sh-t the store hides
i don’t care i punch n-ggas with four eyes
every bar takes away a little more pride
i got something for big small and tall guys
we might pull up in big, small or tall rides
we might pull up and put a bullet in your ride
n-ggas want it with banks, even the wh0r-s tried
i put something in your gut through your door slide
f-ck a tux i never fall in love with them clothes
i’m ghetto, timbaland bubblegum soles
i done seen girls turning to double dumb hoes
then they get pregnant, another one grows
haters must wanna see the brother gun blow
get at me the kid with the number 1 flow
if there’s more than one ho, sit back and blow me
and argue over my b-lls like shaq and kobe
ya’ll know me, relax twist back the dro-y
yack and moey, f-ck around and yap your roley
ya’ll don’t want problems, so you give me dap to show me
nothing but cop lovers running with axel foley
ya’ll ain’t got no aim, bunch of sloppy sprayers
hitting up the wall more than hockey players
n-ggas, thought i was sweet and jock me later
get your own sh-t, why you wanna copy hater?
i’m a big dog, you puppy chow
hoes wanna f-ck me now ‘cuz they hear my name like the puffy trial
that n-gga got a bad temper, plus he foul
blowing dro, hand picked from a pluffy spout

[outro]
yeah, here we go!
that wasn’t it green i’m just playing

- lloyd banks lyrics

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