logo songteksten.net

Lloyd Banks - Playboy

(intro - dj whoo kid)
aw man, can i get a raw please
ya'll ready, for the main event...
DAMN, LLOYD, BANKS

(verse 1 - lloyd banks)
guess who's the man this winter, straight out the land of sinners
the ranger's tan wit spinners, check out the white wheels
roll wit the damn winners, or u and ur man's finished
u and ur rams' fitteds, turn off the light switch
holdin my torch down, even when the force 'round
u let ur wife roam, she want a divorce now
u niggas aint this gully, playin 2 paint ya skully
u'll never take this from me, the riders and all the gangstas from me
u shouldnt be a problem, i aint be a problem
see ya later i read ur head, u be a rodman
i know ur type, hoppin all over the beach screamin'
u call it hypin' urself up, i call it street dreamin'
i do it for all of the haters, the playas roll wit the gators
they lookin' foward 2 favors, gossip is all they gave us
u niggas wasnt quiet, meet the whales and the fishes
u lit the precinct up, playin tattle-tail wit the snitches
even my momma knows, i got all kinda hoes
they wait outside the shows, stripped after the diner close
out their designer clothes, witout the winer rules
take off my baby blue mink, and carolina boots
come here, take a look inside an entertainer's closet
i never trust a bitch, i blame lorainna bobbit
niggas stay and pocket, i know u mad at me
but shit aint peaches n' cream, and i aint sarah lee bitch

(chorus - lloyd banks)
dont ice me, u starin' at the wrong one
theres alot of girls here, go and get up on one
we at the bar poppin', bottles 'til they all gone
if u aint leavin' here wit us, u can walk home
'cuz someone else will, they know how we ride
if u a playboy, u got one on each side
keep ur mouth closed, we dont let the beef ride

ride...ride...ride
DAMN, LET'S GO

(verse 2 - lloyd banks)
i do this for the hood, niggas stuck in the slammer
i smile 'cuz im good, u act tough for the camera
where im from the little kids, they fuckin wit santa
cuz they like tupac more, word?, word 2 my grandma
i figure i might as well leave here wit my glock drawn
'cuz they'll take u 2 jail even when ur not wrong
dawg ur not this flashy, but u got 2 blast me
every rock is classy, nobody on ur block can match me
u shoudlnt want a fight, unless u wanna fight
for ur life in a hospital 100 nights
i know ur type, run behind ur girlfriend rushin'
u call it quality time, i call it handcuffin'
im on the beach of miami, cellular reachin' my family
all weekend wit panties, from puerto rican candy
u niggas wasnt tough, i shoulda snapped some flicks
u wore ur pants tight, play pitty-pat wit the chicks
even my father knows, where the revolver goes
i bring the beef 2 ur front door like dominoes
and my diamonds froze, that means my time froze
we in the club from when its poppin', till when the time its closed
half of these so-called real niggas can hardly sing
naw i aint pullin' over, learnt that from rodney king
so tell ur homey chill, u know i hold it still
everything aint jabs and hooks, and u aint holyfield nigga

(chorus - lloyd banks)
dont ice me, u starin' at the wrong one
theres alot of girls here, go and get up on one
we at the bar poppin', bottles 'til they all gone
if u aint leavin' here wit us, u can walk home
'cuz someone else will, they know how we ride
if u a playboy, u got one on each side
keep ur mouth closed, we dont let the beef ride

(outro - lloyd banks)
everybody on the left get ur hands up
everybody on the right get ur hands up
everybody up front get ur hands up
and everybody out back get ur hands up
and if u in here wit a strap get ur hands up

NOW PUT 'EM UP, PUT 'EM UP

wut? man fuck wut he said

NOW PUT 'EM UP, PUT 'EM UP

FEMU logo Songteksten.net heeft toestemming van Stichting FEMU om deze songtekst te tonen.

De songteksten mogen niet anders dan voor privedoeleinden gebruikt worden, iedere andere verspreiding van de songteksten is niet toegestaan.