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lloyd banks - gilmore's lyrics

yea, whoooooooooooooooooo
you n-ggas know what time it is
its time for that gangster sh-t

[hook – lloyd banks]
we ain’t got sh-t to live for
your either headed for the pen or your on your way to gilmore
in the middle of the real war
cause a five dollar bill is the sh-t n-ggas k!ll for
i make million out yeah
i don’t care about a m-th-f-cka out there
my heart cold and my wrist rock
you could f-ck around and die over hip hop

[verse 1 – lloyd banks]
i treat a dollar like a mill, counting every bill
cause if i don’t watch mine another m-th-f-cka will
i went double but i still tuck the steel
i’m the truth, why the f-ck you think 50 cut the deal
rawer than a bag of d when you cut the seal
when i bling the paint job on a coupe de ville
i ain’t never had a pop, poppa never had a son
n0body to go get, so i ain’t never run
they chat behind my back but they quiet when i come
they treat a lil’ n-gga like a giant with a gun
i walk with a swagger like i always had money
cause i know, they rather see my black -ss bummy
ain’t nothing funny just a whole lot of anger
mind of a leader, drama of a g-ngb-nger
if a n-gga come on property i ain’t going to call
there’ll be a splatter on your shirt, and it ain’t paintball

[hook]
we ain’t got sh-t to live for
your either headed for the pen or your on your way to gilmore
in the middle of the real war
cause a five dollar bill is the sh-t n-ggas k!ll for
i make million out yeah
i don’t care about a m-th-f-cka out there
my heart cold and my wrist rock
you could f-ck around and die over hip hop

[verse 2 – lloyd banks]
i don’t follow no rules i’m getting in here with the town
and if i don’t, we going to burn this m-th-f-cka down
i’m coming thru swinging like they do in h-town
and i roll down the window and spin you b-tch face around
i’m a stunner, hogging up the lane like the hummer
till the wheel run dry like the rain in the summer
even the broke n-gga can’t afford to go to sleep
f-ck around and get you head popped all over the street
and i ain’t got nothing for them but the heat
my lil’ brother want jewelry and jordan’s on his feet
now, they recognize if you slaughtering the beat
and if it wasn’t for rapping, i’d have your daughter on the street
i been the same since kane and sl!ck rick had it
now n-ggas die in the car, my whole whip had it
i worked too hard to let a n-gga have it
so i pack the automatic for the sideline static, yea

- lloyd banks lyrics

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