Featured In
Top Songs By Lloyd Banks
Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Lloyd Banks
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
C. Lloyd
Songwriter
Robert A. Adair
Songwriter
David Porter
Songwriter
Ronnie Williams
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Baby Grand
Producer
Paul Gregory
Recording Engineer
Pat "Pat 'Em Down" Viala
Mixing Engineer
Lyrics
[Verse 1]
I keep my hip on pound 'cause she gets hectic in my town
Drag my family with me 'cause that's how real **** get down
If it wasn't for 50 I probably wouldn't be around
Caught up in the temptation, sitting in jail or underground
And for that if you snap a finger I'll lay a **** down
It's fucked up when your only facial expression is a frown
A hood rat I put a future in a fool's pants
'Till she find out you can't buy furniture with food stamps
A year ago I made a decision before I shut my eyelids
Pray to God I get shot tomorrow 'cause I don't like surprises
When you hot as a oven, they embrace you with open arms
When you cold as a freezer, **** treat you like they don't need you
Some people call it they vapors, me, I call it amnesia
Live my life principle driven, never bite the hand that feeds ya'
Never mind all the haters, fuck them all, let them die slow
All I need is my ****, money, liquor and hydro, I know
[Verse 2]
Everybody gonna die one day
Whether it's natural causes or gun play
But fucking with me you sliding down a one way
I keep it gangsta from Monday to Sunday
Everybody gonna die one day
Whether it's natural causes or gun play
But fucking with me you sliding down a one way
I keep it gangsta from Monday to Sunday
[Verse 3]
Don't blame me, blame my mom and pop for breeding this
The game needed this, Lloyd Banks, a.k.a. Mr. I don't feed a bitch
Or need a bitch, I state it when I meet a bitch
If you want to trick you need a switch
'Cause I don't trick Adidas bitch
This is all I got, I have to blow so whether it's fast or slow
Platinum flow is making it easy to kidnap a hoe
Pop a bag, pass the dro', blow about a half a O
Legit citizenship, my pimp is international
You gotta agree, these motherfuckers probably find me Latin
Before they find a **** hotter than me
We on top as far as I can see
And since the hood watching me
My regular trip to the mall is a shopping spree
I'm the number one draft pick, none of y'all topping me
I move around with the plastic, you ain't dropping me
They show me love in my city
They fucking with me and I'm fucking with them
**** G-Unit 'till the end
[Verse 4]
Everybody gonna die one day
Whether it's natural causes or gun play
But fucking with me you sliding down a one way
I keep it gangsta from Monday to Sunday
Everybody gonna die one day
Whether it's natural causes or gun play
But fucking with me you sliding down a one way
I keep it gangsta from Monday to Sunday
[Verse 5]
You're six inches from a coffin
So I suggest you stop talking
And make me resort to violence
And you'll no longer be walking
You're six inches from a coffin
So I suggest you stop talking
And make me resort to violence, ****
[Verse 6]
You gotta love it!
Written by: C. Lloyd, David Porter, Robert A. Adair, Ronnie Williams