Lloyd Banks
Lloyd Banks - Large On The Streets songtekst
Je score:
Literally drops and blood shed Sour dough, nuff bread In position of power them chumps dead Backstabbers and cowards get drunk beds And violent when unfed, PO's get a challengers bum head Medic, didn't mean it, shouldn't have said it Insults are remembered, we all working to said it Dont play with me, you'll regret it Cause I target the man before the edit Leave you like hard tops beheaded I keep cream, the pistols my street team Triples on my sweet beam Crystals in my lap, I'm a beach dream The skyscrapers to South Jamaica to foreign paper I dominate ya, my shine shows a thousand acres I knock 7 bitches down in Vegas Knock 7 pictures down, I'm famous I gotta work Congratulate me with a lot of purp I'm straight as a college shirt, money to the collar bone, it gotta hurt Million dollar condo windows, my view spotless Cant see over my shoe boxes I hold a big grudge, can't maintain my cool conscience Smooth offence, high middle the news conference New sponsors hoes trickin from how I dick em Ten orgasm's more they gon powder six ones She ever had a grimey thought I shook it out her system On cloud nine I smoke like a politician Southside yelling at every rhyme I'm spitting Popeyes and long sides from rides driven Lil homie been smoking, he 11 now Product of the same neighborhood, hope that don't let him down Dont go popping off your mouth, harlem showing I go loko Lloyd lost in time, hear my 1994 flow, came with the yellow Gardener with the Rose Gold Him with the platinum crush ice If your nose colds, train em with the raps Dirty boxer with the low blows Famous with the tatts, Keep straps for you and so so Flat line, I put a MC to rest Chipped up shoulder, ill like the Fila F They gave me something to smile and feel like I need to rest Middle of summers my shine and bricks and weed for stress I got em hopping out of chracter my gun caliber, babbler Lift bars as hard as Africa Karma's a trafficker, challengers a root statistic Pardon my picnic, tooley on, MR fix it My ups and downs got me looking at these bitches different Staring at my dad in these pictures twisted I aint ya normal, I'm on my shit terrific I figured I warn you, the bigger ticket Big baller call you I hope it's on you Lord knows a nigga push me I set 'em on wheels, all you get is midget pussy Cookies with you pop snatched I pop back Radio hijack get it all before I die rap My contacts help driving you soundtrack Order built for combat 2010 and beyond that