Lloyd Banks Lyrics
Shitty City Pt. 2 Lyrics
09 to 2-10... Yeah... I'm back again!
It's your nigga... !
P Dot L Dot K... ! Huh... !
And this is V5... !
Before I start I'd like to thank errbody for tunin' in...
It's my time of the year again...
Now let's begin...
The way I come off is stupid, the last one you wanna be in the booth with
My heart cold, I jus' ran over Cupid
Until the roof chip I helicopter, Bentley, coupe it
You think your shoe fit, I bury niggaz live on Whoo Kid
What up Slay, (what up Slay) what up Clue, what up Drama
You rockin' with the New York City 'Bomba
I'm a rain on these niggaz, bring my new shit out
Polish my game on these niggaz, Bank-o bring the groupies out
I'm all about my money, fuck you talkin' 'bout
Mind yours, six or seven summers pullin Porsches out, grind tours
Scorin' till it's borin' nigga, nine cities, nine jaws
Fuckin' with my clothes, gone soon as I hop off
Fell back now I'm back for everything that's mine
Them niggaz had their turn, now it's time to see me shine
You don't wanna see me angry rather see me calm
I got this rap shit in my palm and my CD, bomb
You know I O.D today, put your favourite MC's away
DOA, flat line, who want it with the PLK
My life's hotel and casino play
Where you want me sign is all I need to say and your fourteen car keys away
You don't really want no drama you talkin' that E & J
Between weed and gas I probably fuck off a G a stay
I serve it either way, up close and personal
Via internet cursin' you, underground and commercial too
I bring your curtains through, it ain't really worth it fool
Celebrate with a cake and a half a pound of purple, ooh
Cool, 80's baby and it made me crazy
Crazy, low down grimey and shady
Call me what you want baby just try not to call
I ain't got time to argue with you cause I got the ball
I'm a do whatever I wan' do and lock up the mall
Death to a hater, tall big or small, man fuck 'em all
Full 360, it's my turn again, turn to win
You heard of him, surge a win, I'm playin' with words again
Murda pen, came from damn near nothin' I deserve to win
Curve the wind, in my Bentley spur with rims, fur within, won't give in
I push the seven got the perfect ten, copper
I rather work for free 'fore I work for them
Yeah, you touch the soil if I touch the safe
Bitch nigga, I can see it all up in your face
Half rat, half snake, you live like that you get your ass clapped
Half baked, a lighter and gas fate
You heard my last tape, this off the street hot
The D Block, I send niggaz to tree tops, free hops
A one of a kind swag, it begins with me
Ends with me, momma shoulda pushed me out a twin with me
Then it'd be possible to duplicate, make the money Blue can make
You can hate, this gon' bring me super cake...
As we proceed...
To keep you up to speed...
Shit gon' get crazy from here on out...
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