Lyrics:

[Lloyd Banks]
Weed all morning! And then it dawned on ‘em; (uh!)
The n-ggas that call him “the best” – I moonwalk on ‘em!
I’m air gasoline! (uh!) – I’ll put the torch on ‘em!
They gon’ keep wavin’ the bull until these horns on ‘em! (yeah!)
You fall on morning – before it start stormin’
Ain’t really no competition – I rip apart all ‘em!
Go call ‘em! – I serve n-ggaz till they get borin’
Midnight, midday, mornin’!
Uh, this song is for errbody I make it look simple G’s
I wipe the floor with MC’s, stack triple cheese!
Me, Fif and Yay’ jus’ copped – now that’s triple beams! (YEAH!)
My PO can’t rain hold weight, I cripple knees! (knees)
Traitors get betrayed, tramps get (?) knees
I light the room bright as lamps, n-gga pick a sneed!
You know you can’t get with the camp, lucky you get to breathe
Please don’t ask me how I’m livin’ when I lift my keys! (yeah!)
Brand new spankin’ Franklyn’s
I land where it’s ancient, they race to thank him. (uh-huh!)
A million miles away out in space jus’ waitin’ (word!)
Cookin’ up the Crack, Gucci apron bakin’! (you nerves!)
Listen! – Cause I ain’t got the time to blog
Words with the strugglin’ black man, bars hard as Obama job! (uh!)
f-uck my enemies! (yeah!) – I tell they momma slob
Drop my bag, tie n-ggas up like Amistad
Sh-t-talkin’ cause I’m out my car
Leap and the drama frog, sleep from the karma start! (whooo!)
Suppose I lose it! – These old n-ggas entrees!
You thinkin’? – Cause I been drinkin’ like Kanye! (Kanye!)
Ain’t nuttin’ changed but the change in the cool of life
Hop out, shoot the dice, pause for the blue and whites! (uh!)
And my new Lou’s they lucky if I do ‘em twice,
About to catch my flight to Nice! – Cause I’m nice!
Dime after dime I’m the man, yeah!
Her ass spillin’ over the damn chair! (uh!) – Her titties stand up like Pam Grier! (uh-huh!)
I give ‘um wide walls and damp hair
There’s no falacio in the Lamb’, yeah, let’s camp here! (HAA!)
See nine times out of ten, I’m kinda rocky
I’m dressed up so I pose for the paparazzi!
First by the Rolls! – Extreme shopper hobby
Twenty, thirty rats on that – cream Maserati! (whoo, whoo!)
How you gon’ turn your back on your back bone?
Must wanna be in the front, than be in that zone! (that zone!)
Leanin’ on Pat-rone! – There’s no chillin’ me!
My lifestyle’s fast dome! – Roam through Italy! (ugh!)
I got your shorty and her bed game serious (serious!)
The p-ssy only really yours on her period
Period! – wrong move, check big boy
Mansion, man don’t tell me there’s a sextape, Lloyd; (uh, uh!)
BANKS! – N-gga name a n-gga you know nicer! (huhh?)
I’m sh-ttin’! – You gon’ need a sumo diaper! (yeah!)
I move like the Spyker, two door Viper (yeah!)
Negative energy’ll get the crew all hyper! (uh!)
“Mary Jane” life her! – The only chick that gets it from me
I’m on top of my missionary with the money! (uh-huh!)
I’m hearin’ all the comparin’ and the sh-t is funny (pfff!)
We’re not the same I’m different, dummy! (UH!)
Your boy back rappin’ his ass off, I grip the glass jaws;
My flow “Predator” with the mask off!

Black leather tint on the fast horse, the last Porsche
Ball like mad sports, passports, I’m back forth!
One man attack force
The knife wonder eight other planets, that’s [? ] – You want bash, boss?
Headed on a crash course! – My hearts ice!
Future brighter than my last thoughts! – You’re all mice!
On (?) wouldn’t fall off the floordrop
[? ] more hot! – And everything that your not!
Warlock! – Back block Sureshock
Keep your mouth shut, and your door locked!
Cause speakers go home in a long box;
It’s all lies he’s gonna call the cops!
You ain’t a MC, you a fat b-tch; I get you Swiss cheese for Mac clips!
Nose dives, takin’ one-knees and backflips! – All over rap sh-t!
And the whole crew at the same time
(?) it’s game time! – And I ain’t even in my prime!
My waistlines’ a grey Nine; that’ll make your ass
Run like a grey dame! – Chasin’ dollar bills,
Don’t chase fame! – These n-ggas really bummy and fake chains
If there wasn’t so many I’d name names, but “Gay-ame”!
Hungry like a n-gga with no fridge
Strange, I ain’t grow up like most kids! – Pains, bulletholes and gold ribs!
Stains over clothes and close deaths
Denials, heavens clouds and no stress!
The game’s full of fouls and no refs, complaints from the crowds and no love,
We bring the guns out when they go club!
Bottles and Bud! – Thick models and drugs
Six Hollow, the Subs, you dicked out with a thug!
Dick down on the rug, I skip town with a love!
Blind who? – Take these big diamonds and blood!