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lloyd banks - show discipline ft. tony yayo lyrics

[++ feat. tony yayo:]
[intro:]
whooooooooooooooooooooooooo kiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiid!+
{+starts off with the beat of jadakiss & nas’: “show discipline”:}
[lloyd bank$:]
uh! + you n+ggas couldn’t do me sh+t, the best thing moving, (uh+huh!)
i make you drool each whip. + seven letter out the cheddar!
get the tooly ships’ (ssssh!) slug proof leather
got the coogi fit. (uh+huh!) + y’all fightin’ over scr+ps
look at the bright side; i’m lightnin’ on a track
like tyson on a mat. + i’ll smile right in ya face, and knife you in the back
you pekaboo kind + so keep ya two .9’s
they all gonna drown in sh+t, creek and do time. (time!)
if you can’t make a hit record, do crime! (crime!)
cause it’ll pop you and any protection you find. (find!)
him, him and the n+gga next to him dyin’
war wound sufferin’, neck and chin flyin’
how the f+ck new york fell off, when i’m climbing? ! (huh?)
grindin’! + sun is shinin’, a hundred diamonds
the problem, is n+ggas rhymin’, it’s all common. (whoo!) [gunshot]
that’s when i bomb him! + bin laden, saddam him + harm him [blast]
dumb as his pops, took off the condom. (yeah!) + i should let em’ rob him
cut ’em in his tissue, watch him tear like scharmins
send him off to sharpton! (uh+huh!) + i’m golf cartin
you in the apartment, with no carpet
it’s cold as the supermarket
n+gga! [gunshot] + my pants poppin’ out with bread
pistol poppin out’! + system “knockin” like the feds. (“dj whoo kid! “)
lunch for breakfast when i’m hoppin’ out the bed stockin’ on my head, (head!)
thinkin’ how can i get fed? (heh?)
i get dressed, match the whip with the fit (uh+huh!)
all white b+tton up six’ with the kit. (uh!)
when from always trippin to trips with the clique; cl!ck+clack!
the biggest n+gga ballin’ since shaq! [gunshot]
hoes on my sillouette so the tints black
cross me; you get a contract! + you know combat!
yellow tape where ya moms at? (mom’s at!)
and i know you n+ggas dont want that. (that!)
[tony yayo {dj whoo kid}:]
ayo! + the mini 14 got a red beam
i watch my life style change off of triple beam fled the scene
dream gorilla! + ‘fical k!lla!
we can beef like beanie in bounty k!lla. (“dj whoo kid! “)
i’m that n+gga! + colgate bent + gleam thrilla
ride through brownsville hand on my trigga
i don’t care if you dope, sick or 4 months
i’m tryna move 10 birds like very 2 months!
i got that piff and that daddy mayne
all in one blunt + and that 5th and that cadi man
in case you wanna stunt, i’m on that big wheel john sh+t!
f+ck all you haters! + that liquid bomb sh+t
that they make in al qeada
brand new gators! [gunshot]
shirt’s armani. + dope from the africans, {whoooooooooooooooooooooooooo}
coke from the papis, i’m in the streets! {kiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiid! }
y’all in the street wiiild + eatin’ seadweed
lookin’ g+y in mr. chou’s, y’all n+ggas ain’t bold enough!
y’all hearts ain’t cold enough!
i’m in the hood like golden crust!
squeeze and bust squeeze ya nuts
put some bass in ya voice when you talkin’ to us! + yeah, n+gga! [gunshot]
[outro: tony yayo]
lloyd bank$, n+gga!
tony yayo!
“rotten apple”, n+gga!
it’s a hostile take+over, if you ain’t know man
new york city!
the unit is back!
puttin’ that work in n+gga! [gunshot] [beat stops]

- lloyd banks lyrics

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