- Lloyd Banks Playboy 歌詞
- Lloyd Banks
- Guess whos the man this winter, straight out the land of sinners
The Range is tan with spinners, check out the white wheels
Roll with the damn winners or you and your mans finished
Two in your Rams fitteds , turn off your lightswitch
Holdin my torch down, even when the force round
You let your wife roam, she want a divorce now
You niggas aint this gully, play it I paint your skully
You never take this from me the riders and all the gangsters love me
You shouldnt be a problem, I aint be a problem
See you later Ill red your head, youll be a Rodman
I know your type , hoppin all over beat screamin
You call it hypin yourself up, I call it street dreamin
I do it for all the haters, the players roll with the gators
They lookin forward to favors, gossip is all they gave us
You niggas wasnt quiet, meet the whales and the fishes
You hit the precinct up, play tattletale with the snitches
Even my momma knows, I got all kind of hoes
They wait outside of shows strict after the diner close
Out they designer clothes, without no wine or rose
Take off my baby blue mink, and Carolina vogues
Cmere, take a look inside a entertainers closet
I never trust a bitch, I blame Lorena Bobbitt
Niggas stay in pocket, I know youre mad at me
But shit aint all peaches and cream, and I aint Sara Lee, bitch!
Dont ice me, you starin at the wrong one
Its a lot of girls here, go and get a grown one
We at the bar poppin bottles til they all gone
If you aint leavin here with us, you can walk home
Cause someone else will, they know how we ride
If you a playboy, you got one on the Eastside
Keep your mouth closed, we dont let the beef ride
.. (what) ride .. (what) ride .. (what) ride .. (right, damn! Lets go)
I do this for the hood, niggas stuck in the slammer
I smile cause Im good, you act tough for the camera
Where Im from the lil kids aint ****in with Santa
Cause they like 2Pac more - word? Word to my grandma
I figure I might as well leave here with my Glock drawn
Cause theyll take ya to jail, even when youre not wrong
Dawg youre not this flashy, jux you got to blast me
Every rock is classy nobody on your block can match me
You shouldnt want a fight, unless you want to fight
For your life in the hospital a hundred nights
I know your type, run behind your girlfriend rushin
You call it quality time, I call it handcuffin
Im on a beach in Miami, cellular reachin my family
All weekend with panties from Puetro Rican Cammie
You niggas wasnt tough, I shoulda snapped two flicks
You wore your pants tight, played pitty-pat with the chicks
Even my father knows, where the revolver goes
I bring the beef to your front door like dominoes
And my diamonds froze, that mean my time is froze
Me in the club from when its poppin til the time it close
Half of these so-called real niggasll probably sing
Nah I aint pullin over, learned that from Rodney King
So tell your homey chill, you know I hold the steel
Everything aint jabs and hooks, and you aint Holyfield, nigga!
Dont ice me, you starin at the wrong one
Its a lot of girls here, go and get a grown one
We at the bar poppin bottles til they all gone
If you aint leavin here with us, you can walk home
Cause someone else will, they know how we ride
If you a playboy, you got one on the Eastside
Keep your mouth closed, we dont let the beef ride
Everybody on the left get yo hands up
Everybody on the right get yo hands up
Everybody up front get yo hands up
And everybody out back get yo hands up
And if you in here with a strap get yo hands 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 !) Now put em up! (Put em up!)
Man **** what he said man, 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!) Now put em up! ( Put em up!)
Lloyd Banks, what?
Oooooooooooooh!
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