[Lloyd Banks]
So you say you a gangsta, riiight
Are you really a rider, yeeaa
You don't take shit from no one, nooo
And got ya mind on ya motherfucking dough, let's go
[Verse - Lloyd Banks]
I'll be a South Side nigga till I rot
Even though I got the yacht in the million dollar bot
Superman armor on the '69 drop
0ut of every 70 rappers 69 flop
I blowed a buck in the corner, just to get the feel
My head light smooth when I move the steering wheel
I ain't running from nothing, it's top dollar to chill
I pop bottles for real, with pop artists that kill
I move 2 mill, my backyard is a field
I ain't tough for the tube, I'll smack yall for real
Go 'head hate on me now, you'll miss a nigga later
I'm hood like bulletholes and pissy elevators
I went from playing the same block to Bangkok
So I can get money between raindrops
And my piece so heavy I pop a chain a week
And get so much pussy I can't sleep
[Chorus]
Poppa was a rolling stone, never came back home now I'm on my own
So I had to learn a few things bout survival, like the ice pick done off the bottom
If you scared don't come 'round here, guns ammunition don't run out here
As soon you get the paper you try it, a nigga try me he won't see tomorrow
[Verse - Lloyd banks]
I ain't even got a licence yet and got 7 cars, yep
TV the same size as Kevin Garnett
A brand new buzz, Mac 10 and a choppa
White fan base cuz Eminem is my partner
I'm a Ferrari and Jag copper, you a glass shopper
I blow marijuana the color of grass hopper
I ain't a regular nigga
All the promoters pay 100 more to bring ya boy to Singapore
My dress code got the best hoes jumping on 'em
Evisu's and Red Monkey with the monkey on 'em
Shelves'll leave a niggas food stamps blue
Like a full tube of acid in ya shampoo
We don't tolerate the cock-blocking out the bricks
We got fif's with the cop stoppers in the clips
Watch ya mouth bitch, there's rocks popping out the wrists
And my outfits, a eyestopper for the chicks
[Chorus]
Poppa was a rolling stone, never came back home now I'm on my own
So I had to learn a few things bout survival, like the ice pick done off the bottom
If you scared don't come 'round here, guns ammunition don't run out here
As soon you get the paper you try it, a nigga try me he won't see tomorrow
[Verse - Lloyd Banks]
A nigga throw his hands up at me, I send a dummy harmed
And had money wrong shoot him in his underarm
Pick up a shell, that'll be his lucky charm
I got a chunky arm, I'm a fucking Don
I burn big everyday, nothing but the bong
I don't cuddle, as soon as I get the nut I'm gone
I'm in a class all by myself
I'll whoop ya ass all by myself
I got white gold, rose gold, yellow gold, platinum
Young hoes, old hoes, yellow ones and black ones
I been patiently waiting to get on my shit again
So this is for the corner they cornered a nigga in
I wish you would try jump me, I'll wave the gat by ya
And burn ya eyelashes off like a crack lighter
Nigga you stupid riding by tryna blast me
Cuz my window got the glass from a taxi
[Chorus]
Poppa was a rolling stone, never came back home now I'm on my own
So I had to learn a few things bout survival, like the ice pick done off the bottom
If you scared don't come 'round here, guns ammunition don't run out here
As soon you get the paper you try it, a nigga try me he wont see tomorrow
Paroles2Chansons dispose d’un accord de licence de paroles de chansons avec la Société des Editeurs et Auteurs de Musique (SEAM)
