50 Cent F- Lloyd Banks Banks Victory Lyrics

Banks Victory Lyrics

[50 Cent]

 Yo, yo we can't stay alive forever

 So if shit hit the fan then we might as well die together

 I'm high as ever, more holes and more cheddar

 G-Unit move around wit them pounds and berreta's

 Yea faggot, if I want it I'm gon' have it

 Regardless if it's handed to me or I gotta grab it

 Don't make a ass outta yaself tryin to stop me

 I'm cocky, raps rocky, nigga you sloppy

 You know that I'm, 8 levels above you nigga

 I'll club you nigga, I never heard of you nigga, ugly nigga

 I'm the wrong one to provoke

 You rattin on niggas is only gon' leave you smoke

 So the only thing left now is tools for these cowrads

 I got no friends, fuck most of these cowards

 They pop shit 'till we start approaching these cowards

 While we lay around dollars, they lay around flowers

 

 [Lloyd Banks]

 I got a intergangstress who argue and steams wit reefer

 And who flip when I call a bitch like she Queen Latifah

 Not all the vehicle's is long enough to stash the streetsweeper

 This shit can get uglier than the Master P sneaker

 We slidin through the ruckus, wit prada on the chuckus

 Soon as spring break ho's home from college wanna fuck us

 I ain't here to drop knowledge on you suckas

 I'll sick rottweiler's on you fuckas, cops followin to cuff us

 Top dollars to discuss this, whole lotta zeros

 When it comes to paper I blow a soul outta aero

 I'ma break before I lay floor berry

 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 the game boy

 I know to watch botherin ya vision

 You reach and I'll put a dot on ya head like its part of yo religion

 Why party wit a pigeon?

 I'm blowin a 10 cuz Bush handin flyers for a party in a prison

 I'm in the gucci vest wit the green and red straps

 I'm the last rapper to scare niggas since Craig Mack

 Now every morning's a fast start

 And there aint problem gettin dressed cuz my closet got more aisles than
pathmark

 Run, move startin a wave

 and leave wit 12 shells in ya mouth like a carton of eggs

 I'm the young pimp pardon my age

 I don't got long hair but if I did she be puttin my braids

 Niggas find what club they at

 take 'em wit us, and run a train on 'em like a subway mac

 get advances from grey agra

 see these record labels got most artists gettin fucked like the gay rappa'

 i go the college on the tour

 I'm goin down in history nigga, next to Wallace and Shakur

 I keep ya ammo clean, text polished in the drawer

 Camera's by the hamper that mine into the floor

 by now, you probably heard of me

 fresh outta surgery, flashy as a fuck, you gon' have to murder me

 Burglary, I'm leavin wit cha nike's bergendy, White T, bergendy

 you match now, back down

 niggas love to hate you, but love you when you disappear

 catch me on the boat wit weed smoke and official gear

 heavy when I toke, C notes from different years

 Besly in the robe, re-motes for liftin chairs

 You ain't rich, but we glad to snatch ya

 I send cars to crib like I'm a cab dispatcha

 you better off wit ya stupid guys, lookin for a coupe to drive

 you ain't gettin nuttin but ya french fries supersized

 it's a damn shame y'all still local

 I'm in a million dollar studio layin my vocals

 Nigga

 

 [50 Cent]

 Still in the projects nigga, you ain't goin nowhere

 you gon' fuckin be there for the rest of yo muthafuckin life

 and yo momma said, I'm supposed to tell you somethin.....

 to encourage you, somethin positive

 aight well I ain't gon' lie to you muthafucka, he ain't goin nowhere

 get yaself a beer, get on the fuckin curve

 fuckin dirtbag