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i'll be back - lloyd banks lyrics

[hook]
hundred dollar billin’, quater million on my car
hold up, wait up, i’ll be back tomorrow
hold up, wait up, i’ll be back tomorrow
audi, bentley, brand new aston mar’
everything i smoke’s potent you can smell it from a far
hold up, wait up, i’ll be back tomorrow
hold up, wait up, i’ll be back tomorrow
purple, hindu, chronic by the jar

[verse 1]
ahh, so you like gin and jello
baby girl shake like she shake it for dinero
b*tches rush the sides for my silho(uette)
wet neck got my temperature below zero
fifty grand earlobe, and a pound for a pillow
you met a lot of models, i know how they feel though
asian and brazil hoe, touching me where the steel go
hits of that real dro like a holyfield blow
got doe? dido, it’s coming by the kilo
unlucky n*gga widowed when i’m lowering my window
got the biggest cross you done seen thus far
a star, rolling usually out the jar, plush car
subpar ass n*ggas getting aggy out the mouth
when the wolves on you’re gonna have
to drag him out the house, drag him in a cell
snitch made for ratting i can tell
wiring their chest, squeezing all the traffic to the cell

[hook]
hundred dollar billin’, quater million on my car
hold up, wait up, i’ll be back tomorrow
hold up, wait up, i’ll be back tomorrow
audi, bentley, brand new aston mar’
got that gucci and that louie on that you ain’t never saw
hold up, wait up, i’ll be back tomorrow
hold up, wait up, i’ll be back tomorrow
what time is it? three? i’ll be back at four

[verse 2]
well, we ain’t the ones to flex on, we always got the sket on
step on, or get three to your head, like stephon
whoever thought i’d see this after seing what i’ve seen
went from dancing with the devil to a g in magazines
bring the beamer back to queens
you should see him how he leans
rolling, the neighborhood put g into my genes
i got a swagger you don’t see in human beings
fiend, put me in the museum with the green
mean, spell my name with a bentley “b”
b*tches think of dollar signs when you mention me
p.l.k, spitter of the century
we run the city, and they ain’t make an extra key
shorty holla if you see me in the street
let me hit, you’ll f*ck around and see me in your sleep
you see me out, you see me in a fleet
benzes and bmw’s with chrome feet

- lloyd banks lyrics

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