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Tytuł: Work magic

  • Wykonawca: Lloyd Banks
  • Wy¶wietleń: 278

  
   I'm gon ride, I'm gon ride, they gon ride, we all gon ride, (yea)
  I come from the heart of southside (yea)
  Holdin it down for my niggas that died (yea)
  I gotta busy bird on my side (yea)
  Pop shit and get yo whole mouth wide (yea)
  
  [Verse 1: Lloyd Banks]
  
  Baby had tried to steal off the payroll
  Ill have niggas scrappin the skin off the ya face with the same shit they peal a potato (whoo)
  I thank the lord for my blessings and im glad he gave us the will power and reflexes of larry davis (ohh)
  You dont wanna see my block formin' (uh huh)
  Thats a 101 doggs and i dont mean the ones with the spots on em
  Were respected highly
  'cause you dont need to practice gymnastics to catch a body (oh)
  Me and moneys like Whitney, next to Bobby (uh huh)
  If i bring all my niggas ill need an extra lobby (uh huh)
  As soon as you aint around jake (jake)
  You getcha ass whipped for chips
  Now thats the real definition of poundcake
  I got the crownsnake
  And you can tell when im shoppin 'cause when the mall stampedin' you'll feel the ground shake
  I got a car i only drive on Thursdays (haha)
  Im a stunna, banks blows more cake then birthdays
  
  [Chorus - Lloyd Banks]
  
  Look at here, aint nobody 'round here scared (uh uh)
  I'm headin for the top and im almost there
  Oh yeeuh this shiny shit right here
  Ill work magic and make you niggas dissappear
  
  Look at here, aint nobody 'round here scared
  I'm headin for the top and im almost there
  Oh yeeuh this shiny shit right here
  Ill work magic and make you niggas dissappear
  
  [Verse 2: Young Buck]
  
  You know how i gets down
  This pound hold six rounds
  I told you i'd be back bitch
  Talk that shit now
  You hear that fo fif [.45] sound
  Duck when i spit rounds
  'cause this aint beverly hills
  You in the bricks now
  We aint got shit down here but dope and guns for sell
  You get yo head cracked and niggas dont run and tell
  Its like we sell crack get caught head back to jail
  We on that fuck the police shit
  We livin in hell
  You betta guard yo grill homey
  And stand yo ground
  These bullets burn
  They hit whoevers standin around
  I never learn even after i took a couple shots
  I just got me some band-aids and bought a couple glocks
  Had to go on a rampage and hit a couple blocks
  Once they hear that 12-gauge thats when the trouble stops (boom)
  If its beef then im ready to ride
  Just come to casheville you can find me on the southside (mothafucka)
  
  [Chorus]
  
  [Verse 3: Lloyd Banks]
  
  Now i aint from Michigan but im in the Fab 5
  You know, Yayo and 50, Buck and Game, You know my fuckin name
  Whether the truck or train
  My minds stuck on the grind
  'cause sumwhere down the line, alot of suckas came
  Yeahh aint talkin shit
  But we can all tell he ass
  Jags are black his eyes like the R-Kelly mask (ah)
  You gotta blast me yo (yo)
  'cause the louisville will have yo head lookin like the top of a pistachio
  The young gunner with a raspy flow
  Got every boyfriend thinkin they girlfriends a nasty hoe
  My heart laughin a small
  Maybe its 'cause my grandpop dropped right after the ball
  Banks hops out bulletproof this, bulletproof that, bulletproofs snorkle when you hot they hawk you
  I got the hood on my shoulda
  Chain big as a boulder
  The 357 tucka
  Mothafucka
  
  [Chorus]
  
  Yeeuhh [laughs]
  Muthafucka
  Im here.. yeeuh
  Lloyd banks
  G-G-G-G-G G-Unit!!
  Money by any means...nigga