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lloyd banks – love and hate / don’t matter” lyrics

[verse 1: {dj whoo kid}]
uh! – full speed ahead to the pounds
i daily double the dollar that’s why i ain’t been around. (ugh!)
round here n-ggas wake up. wake up! cut the cake up! [police sirens]
frontin’! – and get your face cut end tatted in permenanent make up. {let’s go! }
if they hit you in your “en” tat’ rather see n-ggas brake up (“aa-aa-aa-aa- alchemist!”)
no shotgun; i’ll run over you with the same truck
attire marked sweater cause it’s the unit forever
the kush match the chedder; and i’m on italian leather. {whooooooooooooooooo kiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiid!}
diamond and bring whoever, my moma done put together
a f-cking masterpiece from back streets to foreign weather
athletes don’t ball better – +top 5+ i said it!
my life’s the sh-t! – all i hear is credit or debit
i inherit! (uh!) – the issues of the n-ggas i get bread with
respect it! – vice or versa – not the type to be messed with
check it i just want the check! – b-tch i ain’t tryna cuddle
with ya i just want your neck – take what you can get! (hahahaha!) (ugh!)

[chorus:]
love or hate, it don’t matter!
matter fact i’m bigger than that – i’m flattered!
i’ve had it with these n-ggas. automatic to these n-ggas. (uh!)
alota sh-t been through here – but we have to be the realest. [shot]
n-ggas feel this! – queens the home of the cop k!llas (queens!)
gorillas – with hair, twin triggers and chinchillas! (uh!)
backs back to back head crack top billas!
you n-ggas can’t eat till we finished! (finished!) [police sirens]

[verse 2:]
i don’t ride spinners! – i pull up on steels cause confusion (hahh!)
a six will make ’em poke out they eyes – like houston!
a far model coupen, i been everywhere that you been
broke everybone of cuban that heat will make you remove ’em! (whooo!) [shot]
you snoozin’! – i stay fully dressed – steady moving!
dutches full of mourn in my new pelle-pelle cruisin’. (ugh!)
he can jump him on a boat down, i don’t know what the h-ll he proven
pro’ly a c0ke or dope – or both? – hard to choose one!
the ghetto targets you young m-ssage and get you sprung
you ain’t thinking bout new kicks – you want a new gun. (new gun!)
a reputation and armor chest!
and hope the sh-t you did don’t come back, another karma death!
yes! (yes!) i’m smooth enough to charm a saint
i’m what these frauds will ain’t! – man the sh-t that be on they arm be fake!
fake n-ggas die slow as they should go!
they hate me in the industry, but love me in the hood though! (sooooo?)

[outro:]
n-gga we the realest. [scratching]
i think these dumb n-ggas forgot! [scratching]
time to remind em

[verse 3:]
we on it all day now so you don’t wana play clown
my goons will spin the ‘k round you’ll run like a greyhound. (whooo!)
this is dedicated to n-ggas that stay down
in this cold world were theyll buck through a playground
real n-ggas don’t stay down, they bounce up!
smoke ah ounce up do dirt and keep their mouth shut! (ssssshh!)
we bring the club in f-ck the house up
somebody burnt the couch up now i’m kicking them out. f-ck! [gunshot] [beat stops] {d-mn!}

- lloyd banks lyrics

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