Lloyd Banks

Lloyd Banks - Who Shot Ya Freestyle lyrics

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[Verse 1: Lloyd Banks]

Don't talk shit to the stars bro

I'll have more niggas leanin' over your weight than a car show

They bust you down like a Marlboro

And i'm excited to see where your knee and ya arm go

You don't want to know how much this cost

Nigga i'm ballin' my dick been through every color lip gloss

Around here that snitchin' get niggas pissed off

That nigga front in the club he gettin' hip tossed

We ride around everybody in the bricks saw us

And them record execs pull out a grip for us



[Music stops]



[Snoop Dogg:]

Yo what up? this is Big Snoop Dogg

The Big Snoopy D-O- Double Gizzle

For shizzle dizzle

Tellin' you to get the S-W-A- tizzle

SWAT motherfuckers



[Verse 1: Lloyd Banks]

Don't talk shit to the stars bro

I'll have more niggas leanin' over your weight than a car show

They bust you down like a Marlboro

And i'm excited to see where your knee and ya arm go

You don't want to know how much this cost

Nigga i'm ballin' my dick been through every color lip gloss

Around here that snitchin' get niggas pissed off

That nigga front in the club he gettin' hip tossed

We ride around everybody in the bricks saw us

And them record execs pull out a grip for us

I'm the shit boss

And on top of that you can expect me to win like a New York Knick boss

You actin' like you want to lay where your mom stay

I'll put red dots on you like Kwame'

I'm blowin' Bomb Bay

Cause it always pays off to make ya important decisions the calm way

My hood bitch'll get you set up god

Cause her milkshake brings all the boys to the yard

You can't even get a show Lloyds on his job

Jet Black tints on the 'Voy and the 'Sage

Take a look at this enormous garage

If you listen you can hear the noise of manage

Shit i'm royalty like Bin Laden

You been lyin'

I got Siamese Glocks

You gon burn 'till the boy gets rid of ya

You'll be a ghost dog like Forest Whitaker

Whoever thought they'd be askin' for his signature

And tourists visit ya

For all this literature

Shit we ain't the cats from the movies we overlooked

I'll put a cast on your ass like a broken foot

You can't teach me how to stunt nigga I wrote the book

A gourmet maids on the payroll to cook

And if i'm travelin' off land the boat is took

Cruisin' slow so all the old folk can look

These little niggas is so so, i'm so good

I got the crowd in a choke hold in your hood

Quarter poundin' a low low the pro should

Ya sales movin' slow mo ya go wood

You want to see me handcuffed in the slammer

Lookin' that tough in the camera

My suppliers married to a real Rasta

All I got to do is hit her with the Kyllvassa

No candles or chilled lobster

Its a flat screen, a little BET

Throw on a DVD

Then its brain on my B-E-D-

I pass her off to my nigga
Get this song at:
bol.com
amazon.com

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Language: English

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