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tour stories - lloyd banks lyrics

[intro]
“it’s up to me to let her hear what i want her to hear. this game! this is how you play! this is how you catch a b-tch, man. you n-ggas don’t know. you’re all in. aye, it’s – you heard of abcs? it’s a. b. p – always be playing. always. you never just say something out your mouth especially when somebody can hear it. this sh-t got to have intention.”

[verse 1]
b-tch! you know my game tight
you came at me wrong
i have you gone, make it right
cali marijuana in my bong, take a flight
you remind me of the ladies in my song, just my type
type a n-gga name and see a pimp pop up
even the most siddidy ones behind the tints my sl-ts
lying when i tell the truth, they all convinced i f-cked
through the lead of witnesses, they couldn’t print my cup

[hook]
i’m on a world wide tour
getting two is my plan
been f-cking all the b-tches i can
she got a date with the dope man
i’m a get it how i’m leaving them
mr. hef! a.k.a “he the one”

[verse 2]
you got me here, now what we doing?
there’s a line outside of options that i could be scr-w-ng
fighting with my conscience cause it’s you that i’m pursuing
kick it with that nonsense for you exiting that [?]
spent the whole day stressing, by the morning i’ll be straight
if i told them all that i would call then i’d be fake
lose my f-cking numbers, no responses is a mistakes
hate is how i’m dong good, compliments to hate

[hook]

“so, when you say the first thing. ‘yeah, baby you know i’m pimpin.’ ‘oh, wow!” she already conjured up the bullsh-t she heard. she ain’t listening to you no more. so, what i’m saying is you got to understand that first. then you got to understand the way that you actually use this to your advantage is to be not like them. you know when a b-tch say some stupid -ss f-cking sh-t? all right! i’m gone

[verse 3]
she on a pill, i’m on that pink
her legs on my shoulders, her -ss on my sink
her phone ringing, she ain’t even blink
sh-t kept ringing, wonder what he must think
i ain’t got the time, baby, don’t quit him
pillow on the face, i don’t pillow talk with’em
i bag’em up, drag’em, then forget’em
knock some years off, i’m a let you n-ggas babysit’em

[hook]
“i ain’t got to spend my time with you. you know? if you want to f-ck with me, fine. it’s about pimping with me. but, about me trying to convince you that i’m pimping? f-ck you, b-tch, you know? way too many motherf-cking hoes out there for me to go f-ck with than sit up in and try to talk you into f-cking with me, b-tch. make me look little to sit up in here to try to talk your motherf-cking b-tch -ss into f-cking with me. if you can’t see it then you lose. i’m the motherf-cking prize, you know? i’m the prize! you not the prize. i can have seven motherf-ckers like you. you can’t never find a motherf-cker like me.”

- lloyd banks lyrics

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