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Артист: Lloyd BanksНазвание : Just Another DayДанные: текст песни / слова песни Жанры : rap hip-hop hip hop g-unit gangsta rap Видео:
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Man what the fuck are you lookin for? Can`t a young nigga make money any more Blow a couple grand in the NBA Store Rock twenty-four thousand on the NBA floor Niggaz be on stage bendin over on tour Leave anti-social with a case of lochjaw Just cause shorty look good, don`t mean that you should go puttin ice on the bitch like she won the Superbowl Even the chips are low, for all these so-called old heads Just ain`t the same niggaz I used to know I got a Houston ho - nah she ain`t the sharpest knife in the drawer but she a damn good booster though See I could fuck a supermodel with my {?} works Send her home with a smile and a couple kids on her shirt I got a year into the game A 141 rocks layin on my chain, geah! [Chorus: Lloyd Banks] Just another day, chillin in the hood Just another day around the way I`m tipsy off the Hennessy We ridin round with the H-K, nigga we don`t play Just another day, chillin in the hood Just another day around the way We smoke a quarter pound a day G-Unit we here to stay, nigga we don`t play [Lloyd Banks] Nevermind the lames in my era, they all want me dead And I know, it`s all over the way I see bread Here I go, caught up in some he say/she said `Til I go, put a slug in my enemy`s head The Tahoe`s, bulletproof so you can`t get through Then follow, your ass and whoever ran with you And you about as assed-out as two jammed pistols Bleedin around a bunch of niggaz who can`t fix you So bring yours, cause you know I got mine with me kid The 8`ll make you lose weight like Missy did The O.G.`s tryin to hide they phony smilin Reputation always arise in Coney Island I`m at your local newsstand jerk While the only XXL you been in as a shirt And, speakin of shirts, get a new white T God damn it feels good to be me - nigga! [Chorus] [Lloyd Banks] Now I`m goin, shoppin with a plastic card now I`m growin, knockin international broads down They know him, they`re not gonna even pat the star down I`m holdin, a glock so don`t even act that hard now You might bust your gun but your gat`s in the car clown So break your lil` weed up and crack your cigars down Cause I ain`t tryin to start my visits, with the fuckin judge givin niggaz life like it`s parkin tickets Now I get to go to bed with a model And the crib is bout as big as it is on the Belvedere bottle I got all kind of ex` I could ram in they faces Red and blue pills like the man in The Matrix You might have spent some paper on your lil` charm but My piece is bout as heavy as Lil` Jon cup But, it`s never tucked, nigga I don`t give a fuck I`ll get bucked `fore I give somethin up, yup! [Chorus] [ad libs] | Похожие исполнители:
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