Lloyd Banks
Lloyd Banks - Bad Luck lyrics
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(feat. 50 Cent) [50 Cent:] G Unit If it wasn't for bad luck I wouldn't have luck If it wasn't for doing bad I wouldn't know about doing good It ain't safe down here in my hood It could be a beautiful day And you'll get hit by strays [Verse 1: Lloyd Banks] This is what you do If a nigga stealing money out the crew Cut eight of his fingers off and leave a nigga with two Destinys beef its always escalate in the future You ain't tough cause ten probably aiming to shoot ya Puss enough to make a neighborhood bum pick up a pistol Fill the clip up and hit you In the face or use the pistol Alls it takes is aim a nigga really tried to diss you Its 'gon be an issue If you don't fry his tissue Whats a crack head thinkin' 'bout right before he takes a hit Hell if I know probablly a whole lot of mistakes and shit What the fuck makes a nigga want to have a relationship When I could have a Caucasian, Spanish, or Asian chick Nigga you could run but the lights'll beat ya Put red dots on you like a slice of pizza Got a groupie on my lap nigga sun roof top nigga Chillin' on the scene With the gangsta lean [Chorus: 50 Cent] This shit is real drama in the hood boy you better stay strapped You need to wear a vest shit its on like that Niggas you think is cool'll stab you in the back I know for a fact [Verse 2: 50 Cent] I got a Gem Star that'll open ya face The Mac'll make you open the safe I'm walkin' around with a open case Ya'll been on my dick a long time thanks Now i'm a introduce you to my man get 'em Banks [Verse 3: Lloyd Banks] You might catch Banks in the city with that blue and gray shit Ropes as thick as the ones they hung slaves with Shorty ain't ya wife dog i'm blazin' after ya Got rocks on my neck from a cave in Africa Just bought a new bitch got beige and black in her Police watchin' us like a Asian Trafficer Go ahead front i'm dyin' to poke ya hater And put a patch on your eye like a Oakland Raider I ain't got a silencer just a Solt Potater I seen ya wife you had to be on coke to date her Its a problem when I get in So if its hate in ya blood you better find a way to hold that shit in [Chorus: 50 Cent] This shit is real drama in the hood boy you better stay strapped You need to wear a vest shit its on like that Niggas you think is cool'll stab you in the back I know for a fact [Verse 4: Lloyd Banks] I'm lyin' to these hos So if you bust in my room you'd probably catch a bitch tryin' to propose From a block bang out I caught iron in my clothes Stuck without my wratchet Buck in my bread basket Ear drums soft from lead to Bounce off the floor injured my leg in traffic Headed towards the Mackland But its hard as hell to walk a straight line when ya eyeballs doin' back flips Duck from the SK Special Or i'm a leave ya fuckin' shirt lookin' like the ese's dressed you It'll be a case when I catch you I'm puttin' holes in ya face like a pretzel Make jakes have to sketch you Arm and legs'll break the same time your neck do Throw you off a projects For fuckin' with my set I know you hate me and would like to jump me Cause I play around acres like Michael's lunky You ain't hurtin' me in Air Force Cause my Nikes is comfy Catch me out in the country With lights and company She can't be thirsty because all night she drunk me See I made it convince me Shes better than Lewinski Whats the sense of holdin' on the metal if its empty? You need shells in 'em To leave swells in 'em Catch Banks at the top of the globe Pocket of dough Rocks in the low Lockin' and load Cock and explode I grew up pops and a O Mix match socks on my sole Cops on a stroll Spendin' knots on my gold I got Ns in my jeans For Benzes and screens Cause I take money like vending machines I used to stick pens in my jeans Now I got beams That'll leave you bending with screams Pressure turns men to Marines King pins to pussys And hard rocks into milk and cookies [50 Cent:] Motherfuckers Ha ha Lloyd Banks This shit is hot Banks Shit Who recruits talent just as good as 50? Ha ha