Lloyd Banks

Lloyd Banks - G'z Up lyrics

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[Chorus x2]

G'Z UP!, to every hood and every crew

U (you), supposed to have ya gun 'round you

N-I (and I), claim G-Unit till die

got it down to a T (tee), Ya'll aint fuckin with me



[Verse]

Whoever it was that said carrots (karots) was good for ya sight

Must've never came across a rock this bright

I been hot since Mike first put on a glitter glove and

Slipped backwards on the stage, so give a nigga love

Yeah, I'm popular, but dont get it fucked up

The Uz'll have ya shakin in the club like the bruck up, What's Up

With these wannabe Lloyd Banks's, toy gangstas

We need to do a remix cuz theres some more Wankstas

My street team strap Mag's on they waist

Vest under the shirt, and black rags on they face

Im a problem, Lord can you find a way to save me

I cant die, shit, i aint even have my baby

Fuck its all gravy, if I go, Im cool

Death comes for everybody, no acception to the rule

I'm a G-Unit soldier, ridin with my eyes low

Funny rims spinnin backwards in a spiral

Ya'll know the kid got the game in a gyro

in other words, to choke, nigga, im no joke

how the fuck you sell 4 million records and go broke

how the fuck you take a trip to jamaica and dont smoke

Out in L.A., I know a couple Damu's and Loc's

My chain heavy, 'bout the weight of soap on a rope

Leave ya girl around me to long, I'm pokin' her throat

Soon as she open her coat, bend her over and STROKE



[Chorus x2]



[Verse]

In the town Im from, the tattle-tells dont rock like Pro-Keds

The lil niggas ride they mopeds round the dope heads

Glass on the ballcourt, you cant even cross-over

Without poppin the ball, I'm not gonna fall

One year from now im in the pop ??

Bulletproof glass blockin ya boy, glock in the door (jea!)

Im on tour, pocket of raw, knockin ya whore (jea!)

You back home suckin' ya teeth, moppin the floor (laughs)

Im gettin top dollar, these ain't freebies

Been in the game a year and got 2 "Best Of Banks" Cd's

If they aint mine then i dont give a fuck about em

shit, R. Kelly played with kids and niggas still bought his album

I learned patience cuz it takes time

Now my delivery is sicker than McGrady on the baseline

None of the Tec's jus wait around

Cuz i got a roster, that'll bring a record label down

Im a monster, i tear da whole track up

My closet bar'll break on me if I throw another throwback up

Im flyin back to Miami, just to do a feature

Cuz they throwin paper at me like a substitute teacher

Im far away from the leechers, they cant even reach us

Im on the left coast gettin my dick sucked on the beaches

Somebody hurlin up, everytime that i stunt

And every other verse you hear is the rhyme of the month, YEA



[Chorus x2]
Get this song at:
bol.com
amazon.com

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Author: ?

Composer: ?

Publisher: ?

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Language: English

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