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    [lloyd banks]
    Yeah, 20 miles an hour in my long bentely
    Shame on you hater, this what the lord sent me
    Lately I've been practicing my gas face
    Cause that's what i'ma give em when they land in last place
    Hand right by the...They ain't too many seeing us
    So they wanna take my gifts
    But i wrap em with the (?)
    My regular (?)
    Currency and cashmere
    You drove (?) your way, i told her she can crash here
    Yeah i'm counting paper like the cashier
    Living like i'm limited, grieving like its my last year
    My boy in and out the box, super stupid soldier
    Told me if he could do it again he'd do it over
    Poverty's king cobra, squeeze ya life out
    Cause its the fatalities and casualtes i should wirte 'bout
    These rappers ain't iced out, they just fooling
    Running round town fakers, zirconian cubic

    Only money matters in the game, f-ck the fame
    I gotta eat dollar signs, feed my hunger pain
    Music like me, don't worry, leave you numb the same
    Play me like i'm something sweet
    Be apart of summer slayin'
    Most hate it most doubt it
    Thats what they shout it
    I'm on top now, there's nothing they can do about it
    They better have ya out
    Cause where i'm from, there ain't no way around it
    Home sweet home

    [pusha t]
    I'ma f-cking rap til you blue in the face
    You'll probably turn into smurfs with the time that you waste
    Throughout histroy they throwing shots at the greats
    But i shoot back, the lord ain't designed me for hate
    I've never understood martin luther with the speech
    With the whole world watching me, turn the other cheek?
    Never, so there's one left to die in the streets
    Cause his long arms happens to connect with his reach
    Try to kill you then, them near misses was god's kisses
    True hollywood story, ghetto tie bridges
    Different strokes that n-ggas broke the (?) reach
    You only read about the cars that i paddle shift
    You only dream about the (?) that i dabble with
    Balcony views, postcard, imagine this
    White stones, black steel cold chrome
    This city's my doormat, them home sweet home


    [lloyd banks]
    See me where you see me
    Always seen
    Off the queens magazines, pissy hallway scenes
    Paying crowds, hunger screams, pressure crumbles teams
    F-ck being humble in the jungle where they fumble dreams
    Drugs for the living, henny (?) for the body

    Pitbull, i bit my way out the cage, whats happening
    Competition got me on the rampage, jackson
    Part of my reaction to they corny ass raps
    Keep flirting with death and get your horny ass clapped
    Back for more me, rat tat, kiss the ring, beat respect out them
    Bloody heads, turn timbalands to red bottoms
    50 bottles just a start now thats how they do it
    Carbon fibre through the spyder playin' rider music
    ain't no question of my resume, i gotta prove it
    Life's a b-tcha nd i get (?)


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