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ice box (pt. 2) - lloyd banks lyrics

you know who it is, n-gg-! {whoooooooooooooooooo kiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiid! }
plk!
’09 is mine, n-gg-!
y’all betta not get in my muhf-ckin’ way! {“cold corner”! }
yeah!
before you put my name in ya sh-t, just know this (what?)
they don’t make a shackle strong enough to hold chris,
and! – there ain’t a fence to mankind i can’t climb
i’m outta this world. – you outta ya d-mn mind,
i grind! – no bullsh-t in my spare time (nah!)
3rd time’s a charm! wait ’til they hear mine.
the strong kind, done been in a chokehold with’ smoke though
me and mary jane like ice-t and coco. (whoooo!)
popo goin’ loco, mad i’m able to show dough
pull me over for tickets, cause i p-ss like romo.
trickin’ is a no-no! – she got her own guap so (so!)
she won’t gimme my po’ in the audi coupe quatro
medaline poppin’, same place they raised pablo
groupies on the potty, sniff c-ke by the pothole.
strapped like movado [kids ovation] henny ‘gnac out the bottle
’till i wobble. – wake up and do the same sh-t tomorrow. (tomorrow!)
my bankroll flowin’, growing, look how i’m rollin’ (uh!)
shorty leavin’ the show and, duckin’, cause she stolen,
goin’ – with’ me – tipsy! – rubbin’ up against me,
when i get her out my bentley i’m a f-ck her ’til i’m empty. (uuuuuuuh-oooooooooooooooooh!)
the writer of the century – the plk!
them n-gg-s don’t want it with’ me, no way!
he ain’t no model, he ain’t gets mo’ dough?, (why?)
gymstar’s do that boy cheek – like a fila. (fila!)
rely on my street ties, 7 days out the week high
we buy whole of rosie, you know me – from ya knees ma! (whooo!)
from the west to the eastside. – i’m hands down a beast by,
any means necessary, weaponry we keep, riiiiight?! [gunshot]
baby nine is my lady, and i need her by
hammer send ya -ss real high. – call her: “nina sky”!
f-ck 4 and a half stars, gimme the 5!
gimme the 6 with’ the kicks and the gleamin’ eyes!
i’m in my mid-20’s gettin’ money (uh!)
bank$! – the future of this rap sh-t, dummy!
i evolve with’ the years! – haterproof, invisible!
the blogs and ya stares (stares!), i’m a god over snares! (snares!)
goon in the p-ssenger seat, gun in his palm (uh!) {whoooooooooooooooooooooo}
’cause round here n-gg-s get foul more than lebron (uh!) {kiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiid! }
i’ll knock ya off the board, you’re a p-wn!
i fly like the pilot – gettin’ my europe on! (yeah!)
i smoke the compet-tion, lyrical marathon.
neck look like glitter whenever the camera on. (uh!)
stop! – you don’t wanna n-gg-s show up on ya block
in all black! – run you outcha house like barack. (barack!)
they debatin’ my spot, must’ve forgot!
must i get rude, and terminate dude to getcha props!
i be everywhere! – futuristic, body in pirelli wear, (yeah!)
every year! – trust me! you good dog, we heavy here!
they can’t test us! – them n-gg-s cross dressers!
and they talkin’ all wreckless, so we buy ’em all weapons. (yeah!)
you on the clock n-gg-, 24 seconds,
sprint like the celly, ‘fore the cops draw sketches!
most feel me! – the rest wanna kill me. (kill me!)
my heart beat and bleed for the city. (city!)
i’m only comfortable around a millie
eyes wide open, n-gg- don’t act silly! (silly!)
n-gg- you just been warned, (just been warned…)
one more song it’s ooon. (it’s oooon…)
you just been warned, (just been warned…)
one more song it’s ooon. (it’s ooon…)
yeah!
as we proceed on…
the unit!
it’s a 2 g thing!
h’hah!
yeah!
“5 and better series”, man!
highest sh-t in the street right now!
ask around, n-gg-!
don’t boy on th board!
shout-out to the whole mothaf-cka southside, youkno’imean?
that’s my back, boy! {this how we doin’ it! “cold corner”… the mixtape! }
shout-out to all the bootleggers! {can’t forget… }
hehe! {thisis50-dot-com! }
we’re street n-gg-s! {r.i.p. papa bank$… }
it’s goin’ be real big, man. {grandma bank$! }
ggg- you know! {d-mn! } [gunshot] [beat stops]

- lloyd banks lyrics

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