Lloyd Banks


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50 Cent:
G-Unit vydali The Beauty Of Independence EP


Lloyd Banks:
Raper Lloyd Banks zverejnil tracklist nového albumu


Eminem:
Eminem ako duchový otec hip-hopu?


Lloyd Banks:
Raper Lloyd Banks čelí obvineniu z napadnutia promotéra


Lloyd Banks:
Na Hiphopfest priletí s Young Buckom aj Tony Vayo! - Bleskovky - Kultura


Chris Botti:
Nové desky pro 41. týden - musicserver.cz


10 Years:
V New Yorku udeľovali MTV Video Music Awards


10 Years:
Prehľad nominovaných na MTV Video Music Awards 2006


Alter Bridge:
Raději švédskou trojku - musicserver.cz


 

Lloyd Banks

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Lloyd Banks - Playboy
Lloyd Banks - Playboy

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[DJ Whoo Kid:] Aw man , can I get a raw please
Is y’all ready, is y’all ready
For the main event, Damn
Lloyd Banks

[Verse 1]

Guess who’s the man this winter straight out the land of sinners
The Range with hella spinners check out the white wrist
Roll with the damn winners or you and your man’s finished
You and your Rams fitted turn off the light switch
Holdin’ my torch down even when the force ‘round
You let your wife roll she want a divorce now
You niggas ain’t this gully playas’ll paint ya skully
You’ll never take this from me
The riders and the gangstas with me
([Whoo Kid:] God Damn)
You shouldn’t be a problem I ain’t be a problem
See ya later, I read ya head you be a Rodman (What)
I know ya type, hoppin all over the beat screamin’
You call it hypin’ yaself up I call it street dreamin’
I do it for all of the haters the playas ball with the gators
They lookin’ forward to favors gossip is all they gave us
You niggas wasn’t quiet, meet the whales and fishes (Whoo)
You lit the precinct up playin’ tattle tale with the snitches
Even my momma knows I got all kind of hoes
They wait outside the show stripped after the diner closed
I’ll be designer clothes without the winer woes
Take off my baby blue mink and Carolina bowls
Come here, take a look inside a entertainer’s closet
I never trust a bitch, I blame Lorainna Bobbit
Niggas stay and pocket
I know you’re made at me but shit ain’t all peaches and cream
And I ain’t Sara Lee bitch (C’mon)

[Chorus]
Don’t ice me
You starin’ at the wrong one
There’s a lot of girls here
Go and get up on one (What)
We at the bar poppin’ bottles ‘til they all gone
If you ain’t leavin’ here wit us
You gon’ walk home (Whoo)
Go someone else where
They know how we ride
If you a playboy, you got one on each side
Keep your mouth closed, we don’t let the beef ride

(What)
Ride
(What)
Ride
(What)
Ride
(God Damn Let’s Go)

[Verse 2]

I do this for the hood, niggas stuck in the slammer
I smile cuz I’m good, you act tough for the camera (Whoo)
Learn from the hood kids, they ain’t fuckin’ wit Santa
Cuz they like Tupac more, (Word) Word to my grandma
I figure I might as well leave here with my glock drawn
Cuz they’ll take you to jail even when you not wrong
Dog your not this flashy, dogs you got to blast me
Every rock is classy, nobody on your block can match me (Whoo)
You shouldn’t want to fight, unless you wanna fight
For your life in the Hospital for hundred nights
I know your type, run behind your girlfriend rushin’
You call it quality time, I call it handcuffin’
I’m on the beach in Miami, cellular reachin’ my family
All the weekend in panties from Puerto Rican canny
You niggas wasn’t tough, I should’ve snapped some pics
You wear ya pants tight, play pitty pat wit the chicks (Damn)
Even my father knows where the revolver goes
I bring the beef to ya front door like Dominoes
And my diamonds froze that means my time froze
Be in the club from when it’s poppin’ ‘til the time it close (What)
Half of these so-called real niggas’ll probably sing
Naw I ain’t pullin’ over, learned that from Rodney King
So tell ya homey chill you know I hold the steel
Everything from jabs to hooks and you ain’t Holyfield, nigga (Damn)

[Chorus]
Don’t ice me
You starin’ at the wrong one (Whoo)
There’s a lot of girls here
Go and get up on one
We at the bar poppin’ bottles ‘til they all gone
If you ain’t leavin’ here wit us
You gon’ walk home
Go someone else where
They know how we ride
If you a playboy, you got one on each side
Keep your mouth closed, we don’t let the beef ride

Everybody on the left get yo hands up (Get ya hands up)
Everybody on the right get yo hands up (Get ya hands up)
Everybody up front get yo hands up (Get ya hands up)
And everybody out back get yo hands up (What)
And if you in here wit a strap get yo hands up (What)
Now put ‘em up (Put ‘em up)
Now put ‘em up (Put ‘em up)
Now put ‘em up (Put ‘em up)
Now put ‘em up (Put ‘em up)
Now put ‘em up (Put ‘em up)
What, man fuck what he said
Man put ‘em up (Put ‘em up)
Now put ‘em up (Put ‘em up)
Now put ‘em up (Put ‘em up)
Now put ‘em up (Put ‘em up)
Now put ‘em up (Put ‘em up)
Now put ‘em up (Put ‘em up)
Ohhhhhhhh
([Lloyd Banks] what Whoo Kid)


 
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