Количество артистов: 43,846 Количество текстов песен: 642,600
Количество артистов: 43,846 Количество текстов песен: 642,600
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Артист: Lloyd Banks f Young BuckНазвание : Work MagicДанные: текст песни / слова песни Жанры : Видео:
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[LB] They gon` ride! [LB] We all gon` ride! [Lloyd Banks] I`ve come from the heart of South Side Holdin it down for my niggaz that died I gotta dizzy bird on my side Pop shit and get your whole mouth wired [Verse One: Lloyd Banks] Baby that`s right stay off the payroll I have niggaz scrapin the skin off your face with the same shit that peel the potatoes I thank the Lord for my blessings, and I`m glad he gave us The willpower, and the reflexes of Larry Davis You don`t wanna see my block formin That`s a hundred and one dawgs And I don`t mean the ones with the spots on `em We`re respected highly Cause you ain`t gotta practice gymnastics to catch a body Me and money`s like Whitney, next to Bobby If I bring all my niggaz I need an extra lobby As soon as you ain`t around Jake, you get your ass whipped for chips, now that`s the real definition of poundcake I got the crown snake, and you can tell when I`m shoppin Cause when the mall stampedin you feel the ground shake I got a car I only drive on Thursdays I`m a stunner, Banks blows more cake than birthdays [Chorus: Lloyd Banks - repeat 2X] Looka here, ain`t nobody `round here scared I`m headed for the top, and I`m almost there Oh yeah! Shiny shit right here I work magic and make you niggaz dissapear [Verse Two: 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`-fifth sound, duck when I spit rounds Cause this ain`t Beverly Hills, you in the Bricks now We ain`t got shit down here but dope and guns for sale You get your head cracked, then niggaz don`t run and tell It`s like we sell crack, get caught head back to jail We on that "Fuck the Police" shit, we`re livin in hell You better guard your grill homey and stand your ground These bullets burn, they hit whoever`s standin around I never learned, 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, that`s when the trouble stops If it`s beef then I`m ready to ride Just come to Ca$hville, you can find me on the South Side Motherfucker! [Chorus] [Verse Three: Lloyd Banks] Now I ain`t from Michigan, but I`m in the Fab Five You know, Yayo and 50, Buck and Game, you know my fuckin name Whether the truck or train, my mind stuck on the grind Cussin without a line, a lot of suckers came Yeah you talkin shit, but we can all tell he ass Jazz and black his eyes like the R. Kelly mass You gotta blast me yo, cause the Louisville`ll have your head lookin like the top of a pistachio The young gunner with the raspy flow Got every boyfriend, thinkin they girlfriend`s a nasty ho My heart laugh and it`s small, maybe it`s cause my grandpop dropped, right after the ball Banks hops out, bulletproof this, bulletproof that Bulletproof snorkel, when you hot, they hawk you I got the hood on my shoulder, chain big as a boulder The 3-5-7 tucker, motherfucker! [Chorus] [Lloyd Banks] Geah, haha.. motherfucker! I`m here, yeah! Lloyd Banks, G-g-g, G-g-g, G-g-g, G-g-g, G-g-g G-Unit!!! Money by any means, nigga | Похожие исполнители: |
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