Lyrics:
Lloyd Banks)
I wake up to my medicine, head throbbin', heart full of rage (yeah)
Feelin' dirty from haze, as strong as thirty grenades
When it comes
Lloyd]
When I hustle, baby I be thinking of you
I'm always on the grind don't spend a lot of time like we used to do
Now be out on these streets 'cause
Yeah! 50 Cent, Lloyd Banks, Young Buck
G G G G G-Unit! Haha!
Vacate your home I come to brake your bones
Americas nightmare we at it again
Woodrow Wilson has his fourteen points
But Clemenceau turns to Lloyd George
And says "You know that
God himself had only ten"
Today I'm carried by a league
The ones that stood by me like soldiers
You were there
I know you love me
But I'm still waiting for the Lord to come hug me
Send a sign or somethin'
body's stiff
By the same niggas you used to party with
Hands up shorty when you party with me, we goin' way past quarter to three (I said Hands Up!)
Blasting holes in the night til she bled sunshine
Breathe in, inhale vapors from bright stars that shine
Breathe out, weed smoke retrace the skyline
Heard
See passion's been passing by
Been tripping through happy times
It's giving me misty eyes
I'm hoping we don't die
I caught the spirits while sippin'
on your face
It hits you once
It hits you so fast
Well like a freight train on its tracks
It goes right by you in one glance
Our lives
They go by so fast
So
to the festival
Saying medical helping out your skeletal
Ask the kid why he so cynical
Sinning while slimming up my physical
World changing, going digital
By my
Westcoast Kush we smoking, Cali weed we choking
Water bongs and vapors, getting high off of Zig-Zag papers
From Oklas out to Cali, don't you ever
with me
You know you don't want it with me
You can talk but soon we gon' see
You don't wanna bump heads with me (Lloyd Banks)
Fuck that, I'm tired
see
You don't wanna bump heads with me (Lloyd Banks)
Fuck that, I'm tired of waitin'
These industry niggas startin' to get outta hand
Like I
My nigga Buck 3000 over here, you know
My nigga Gotti, the Princess, Momma, what's up baby? ha ha
Brooklyn son, what up what up?
My nigga Lloyd
too much your head they'll bust.
Just one more pull and that will do
For we're the boys to kick her through.
Recorded by Louis Killen- 50 South, also
The ones that stood by me like soldiers
You were there
I know you love me
But I'm still waiting for the Lord to come hug me
Send a sign or somethin'
Besides, every rapper ain't a star, nigga plad ain't bulbary
You can't tame Lloyd, smokin by the big screen
You changin the channel looks like I'm playin
Besides, every rapper ain't a star, nigga plad ain't bulbary
You can't tame Lloyd, smokin by the big screen
You changin the channel looks like I'm playin
Got Me Baby, You Got Me You Got Me mixed up with somebody else
John Simon Bill Lloyd
Bill Lloyd Fourel Songs administered by BMGChrysalis (BMI)
Intro: Lloyd Banks]
Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh!
You already know, my mind is on my dough
A millionaire that won't spend a dollar on a ho
I'm still in
that fiend Denise
Cruise the streets, stuntin in that Maybach sixty-two
Nigga what my dope goin fo', 62, c'mon! A gram
By man, my plan's to expand
On the mosty cruel
Henry Hall and David Lloyd betty Grable too
Hello, this is John, speaking with his voice
(Huh) We're all very happy to be able
To talk to you
one spark it up
Inhale the vapor, levitate
They tell me slow it down
You should keep up
If you stay surrounded by the clouds
We should meet up
Ok I'm
Ballin like I’m Kobe
81 In the staple
Ima po up 2-4’s
Like I’m sponsored by the Lakers
Niggas lite like Miller
Sippin Sprite smokin vapors
Smoke
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