lloyd banks – another 50 lyrics
[intro:]
yeah!
you know who it is… [gunshot]
bank$! [shot]
[verse 1:]
n-gg-s talkin’ all crazy, like i’m a talk back to ’em,
naaw! – i’m a let the gat tattoo ’em.
and i can’t get it in, i’ll jus black blue ’em, (black blue ’em!)
like ezel and p. miller, screw ’em! [gunshot]
bring your best rapper to me – and i’ll chew ’em, (chew ’em!)
mike vick ’em! – o.j. ’em, ray carue ’em! (whoooo!)
i’m part intelligent part schitzo (schitzo!)
and my pain – it should help sh-t grow. (uh!) [shot]
rap klitzco! – every punch is hard,
you can’t take that from me it come from god.
my trunk small and sh-t, my engine on my back
like south jamaica – i’m a f-ckin’ mack!
y’all little n-gg-s – go and pump a pack. (uh!)
“green, gang” bars – ain’t no punkin’ that. (yeeeah!)
my coffee shop sell weed in it, (yeah!)
i d-mn near overdose every visit.
out in amsterdam where they smoke in the street
and sell p-ssy like bread – minus the blood shed. (blood shed!)
lamb’ logo, blood red
more rings than chicago, nuff said. (nuff said!)
my mommy had heart attacks back to back,
sorry! – but i wasn’t really thinkin’ ’bout rap. (’bout rap!)
and my pops jus p-ssed i had to think about that (about that!)
that can be enough to set a n-gg- of track. – i’m back! (back!)
[interlude: {dj whoo kid}]
in fact…
n-gg-s know exactly what to do. {whooooooooooooooooooooooooo kiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiid!}
and what not to do.
anything’s possible!
see i’m back!
everything else… really don’t matter… from here on out!
[verse 2:]
uh! – i pop bottles like a beat a case
my mind race at a cheetahs pace – with addidas lace. (whooo!)
they fell in love with my neck – i don’t need a face (naaah!)
n-gg- you ain’t got sh-t if you don’t need a safe. (haha!)
these youngins get extorted every year (year!)
by old n-gg-s with salt and pepper hair. (uh!)
sh-ts rough i lower a coffin every year
funeral arrangements and mortuary care. (swear!)
yeah! – i’m in a cl-ss with a few
like a spec-ed kid – eatin’ glue. (glue!)
i’m colder than a baby abandoned
the cannon will lay down everything standin’. (yeah!)
go ‘head stunt, end up like brandon
you come to me better be god’s plannin’. (uh-huh!)
don’t get your ears popped like your landin’.
i’m flyin’ spurin’ – radar scramblin’. {aaaaaooooouuhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!}
puerto rican but i speak dough fluent (fluent!)
bachelor pad don’t gotta sneak hoes to it. (naaah!)
i speed through the yellows, and run the reds
they hear about if you b-mp heads (why?) – cause they’ll be dumb lead. (uh!)
if i ain’t top 5, who is?
i’m lyrically loved in every town you live. (yeah!)
scarface cameras all around the crib.
n-gg-s slip on the gr-ss get hit with the sig.
they sick though and my plane 1st cl-ss for the rain
turbalance got me rockin’ champagne stains. (stains!)
if i get 4 lanes, i’m a do my time (time!)
i get 200 or somethin’ – with a flow of mines. (whooo!)
cuttin’ gr-ss, cause nine n-gg-s mowin’ mine
look directly in the watch – you goin’ blind.
i’m flyest n-gg- doin’ it, ask yo mom!
my sh-t the bomb they used back in ‘nam. (boo!)
your soulmate wanna ride shotgun (yeah!)
and pretend like she don’t got one. (yeah!)
you know what’s next minagin’ on the yacht son (yeah!)
ready to unload like a cop’s gun. (uh!)
you get pregnant then it’s to the chop shop (whao!)
cause i don’t change diapers – i change drop tops. (whoo!)
most wanted number with my black glock c-cked
real n-gg- unit boy ’til my clock stop – tickin’.
[outro:]
{whoooooooooooooooooooooooooooo kiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiid!}
tickin’…
ggg- you know!
unit!
“t-o-s”… boy!
[outro:]
“5 and better”… volume 1!
“return… of the plk”!
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