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Lloyd Banks - The Hunger for More Album Lyrics



Lloyd Banks - The Hunger for More Lyrics






Aint No Click

[ Featuring Tony Yayo ]

[Tony Yayo]
Yee nigga
F*ckin back hunger for more
Tony's home
Yo Banks I told these niggas man
[Lloyd Banks]
Yall done f*cked up now
Yee!
Yeeeeee!
[Tony Yayo]
Here We go

[Chorus: Lloyd Banks]

Aint no click like the one I'm with
If the drama gets thick its the guns I get (Now)
G Unit niggaz is runnin this shit (Now)
If you aint reppin where you from then sit (Down)
We gettin dough everywhere we go
And it's killin 'em slow just to hear me blow (Now)
G Unit niggaz is runnin this shit (Now)
If you aint reppin where you from sit down

[Verse 1: Lloyd Banks]

By now I know you done seen me
On your stadium or TV with three eighty on the EV
I skeet babies on your breezy
and I aint stoppin Only Jake the Jacob could freeze me
Leaves me and its bye bye gone
We got guns like Pop-eye arms
I put a ring on their finger But the rats still askin
cause theres one in all they mind Im the Rap Phil Jackson
n I built a rep for murderin every Whoo Kid, Kayslay and Big Mike
admit it the kid tight, And you aint even put up a fight
so its back to da amatures, Wrapped in ya sandwhiches
I'm hot now so the rats wanna stand with us
They hop in the van with us and clap on cameras
I hit the clubs now I'm back tourin Canada
Amongst weed smokers, and crap floor gamblers

[Chorus]
[Verse 2: Lloyd Banks]

Make sure the birds dont get brought to 'em
I watched Kobe go from the basketball court to the courtroom
Go ahead try n do me harm soldier
you'll be in a black bag like grass out the lawnmower
And I'll be damn if I co-sign a old snitch
that was gangbangin when jaws was a goldfish
I'm the name they all screamin on the street
for bullyin the bassline and leanin on the beat
I'm well known now so you see me on the creeps
schemin on a freak fan blade leanin on a jeep
Aint walkin with the fire, so if you say banks in ya verse then you better be talkin bout Tyra
From PA to LA, Atlanta to Texas, Nashville to Memphis, My buzz is tremendous
I pass thru the city slow, but the hit the gas on the silly hoe
Bounce like ass in my video

[Chorus: Lloyd Banks]

Aint no click like the one I'm with
If the drama gets thick its the guns I get (Now)
G Unit niggaz is runnin this shit (Now)
If you aint reppin where you from then sit (Down)
We gettin dough everywhere we go
And it's killin 'em slow just to hear me blow (Now)
G Unit niggaz is runnin this shit (Now)
If you aint reppin where you from sit down

[Verse 3: Tony Yayo]

(Ayo banks let me put some work in, its been a while)

Ayo, uno, dos, tres, cuatro
my clique eat like the 12 holy apostles
And bust down models in flushed out tahoes
jewels froze look like we hit the lotto
P89, my clique filled wit hollows
stun in the club get hit with yellow bottles
Don't speak ma, if your neck dont swallow
cuz 50 push bentleys and Dre push Diablos
That Eminem money got cash in my eskro
Scrooge Mcduck stays swimmin' in my cash flow
Yay rappers cracked man I got the best blow
best flow, Banks put me in the booth lets go
think like castro, Games in the lasso
dont jump in the Benz without steps on the petro
God gave me this flow so I am special and 16 bars nigga I'm finished, finito!

[Chorus]

[Tony Yayo]

We Told YAll Muthaf*ckas Man!
Yall Niggas Look Like Us And Smell Like Us But Your Not Us Man!
Lloyd Banks Hunger For More!
We Back Nigga!
50 The General!
Young Dezzy Buck!
Game!
The Rap Game Is Ours Nigga!
Hunger For More!
Rida Music Nigga!
This For Them Gangsta, Them Generals, Them Comrades!
Uh Huh!
This Is Rida Music! (HaHa)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: CHRISTOPHER CHARLES LLOYD, KEJUAN WALIEK MUCHITA, MARVIN BERNARD
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group






I'm So Fly

Yee!
Ayo 50, they only do it like us nigga [laughs]
Yee!

[Chorus]

I'm So Fly
An I've got money so that's a good enough reason to buy the things I buy
I'm So High
An I'm on point and I can tell that you jealous by the look in your eye
When I Ride By
An I don't care, G-Units goin straight to the top this year
Nigga Im So Fly
An I've got money so that's a good enough reason to buy the things I buy .

[Verse 1 : Lloyd Banks]

Banks is fresh out the gutta (gutta)
To smooth to stutta (stutta)
His cig will melt a riva like 2 scoups of butta (butta)
Before I leave the crib I tell my mother I love her
Grab the burna cuz she aint concerned cuz he's a earna
My bitch lays it out real nice for me to murda
Fight, wake up n' f*ck like Ike n' Tina Turner
It's a privilege to ride with a celeb
Cause them girls over three don't got a problem given head
Paranoia is on ya that's why your mama is in your bed
F*ck a rare chinchilla and bossin mama for ya head
And where the block im from niggas be damn near 40 and still tuckin
And niggas baby mama is pregnant and still f*ckin
It's eithier cause their boyfriend is a scrub like brillow
Or cuz banks is cooler than the other side of the pillow
The chronic is blown
For my niggas that got locked up and deported and now they gotta go back home

[Chorus]

[Verse 2: Lloyd Banks]

Don't confuse me with these suckas
Cause when I spit you hear more ouus then a skip to my Lou move at the rucka
Thank god for given Banks the gift
You think that bandana makes you look gangsta but all I see is a handkerchief
Nigga there's no one out the click that freeze us
Believe that cause I aint scared of shit but jesus
Look dawg i dont roam with the poodles
Difference is i'm eating in Rome and you eatin roman noodles
Ya boys corrupt kid
Banks will send a bitch to the store just for a piece of cheesecake like puff did
You jokes cant afford these homes
Look around I got 40 clones now look down that's 40 stones
And that's only in the necklace
I'm bony and I'm reckless (vroom) there's Tony in a Lexus
Im fresh out the gutta scrap whatcha man thought
Im in the hood with more straps than a Jan Sport

[Chorus]

[Verse 3: Lloyd Banks]

When I travel I know Im gonna get stuck
Cause they harass us in the airport like im the ones that's blowin shit up
I got the patience of a high school teacher
And a bright future, why the f*ck would I have a bomb on my sneaker
Will the goody girls back of us
My hearts colder than jack frost is
We pack shows and attract bosses
Black clothes and my black forces
A black rose for a rats coffin
Blowin O's in that black coffin
Blowin the road and im back flossin
No one knows how much that's costin
F*ck ass only the green moves me
I got a clean Uzi A pair of gloves and a mask from the scream movie
So if your plottin on poppin off, sceem smoothly
Or get a little red spatter on ya cream coogy
My name ring each state
So you aint gotta go all the way to LA to get ur mc eight

[Chorus]
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: TIMOTHY MOSLEY, NATE HILLS, CHRIS LLOYD
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc., Universal Music Publishing Group






Warrior

(Warriors! Come out to Pla-a-a-y!)

I'm a warrior!
Aw man I never run never snitch
I'm a grown man dog I ain't no bitch (A warrior!)
Don't change cause he's rich
Before I shit on my family I lie in a ditch
Don't fold under pressure
You got a shell waitin in the hole if they test ya (A warrior!)
I'll sacrifice it all if he has ta
React and think about it after

Uh, You heard right motherf*cker
My grandmama' daughter ain't raised no sucker
Heart full of pride and a head full of anger
Attitude of a winner infared for the danger
Even the paranoya of a female'll change ya
Waking up every morning laying next to a stranger
I'm on the move, smooth, with one eye out for the snakes
Who can't stand hearin your name all throughout the states
Tune into BET and watchin your video
Pretending to be your friends but the smart ones really no, so
If that's your man warn him
'Cause there's enough bullets in here to hit every NBA patch on him
Nigga ride 'til I die the song I sing
You ain't ready for the war I bring
You ain't gonna do a goddamn thing
And I ain't ever scared I'm a warrior!

[Chorus]
Man I never run never snitch
I'm a grown man dog I ain't no bitch (A warrior!)
Don't change cause he's rich
Before I shit on my family I lie in a ditch (A warrior!)
Don't fold under pressure
You got a shell waitin in the hole if they test ya (A warrior!)
I'll sacrifice it all if he has ta
React and think about it after
I'm a warrior!

Goddamn hoe here I go again
The Double L O Y D
Here put on an I.V
Tryin ta try me
The new age I lead
The black C.I.G
Resides beside me
As smooth as an Isley
Sometimes I surprise me
Can't even ID
As low as my eyes be
I roll with the gangstas don't get fly with your mouth
The wrong punchline'll have niggaz inside of your house
Nigga I'm doing good I made it out of the hood
I own Beverly Hills no more bottles or wood
That's a zipper that's sticky
California should whip me
I done made it this far can't be mad if they hit me (shhiit)
Nigga ride 'til I die the song I sing
You ain't ready for the war I bring
You ain't gonna do a goddamn thing
And I ain't ever scared I'm a warrior!

[Chorus]
Man I never run never snitch
I'm a grown man dog I ain't no bitch (A warrior!)
Don't change cause he's rich
Before I shit on my family I lie in a ditch (A warrior!)
Don't fold under pressure
You got a shell waitin in the hole if they test ya (A warrior!)
I'll sacrifice it all if he has ta
React and think about it after
I'm a warrior!
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: RAY WYLIE HUBBARD, ROBERT LYNN LIVINGSTON, CHRISTOPHER LLOYD
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC






On Fire

[Talking]
New York City
You are now rocking with the best
Lloyd Banks
G-Unit

[Chorus]
We on fire
Up in here, it's burning hot
We on fire
Shorty take it off if it get to hot, up in this spot
We on fire
Tear the roof off this motherf*cker, light the roof on fire
Nigga what you say
We get loose in this motherf*cker, light the roof on fire fire fire

[Verse 1]
Now I aint putting nothing out, I smoke when I wanna
26-inch chrome spokes on the Hummer
This heat gon last for the whole summer
Running your bitch faster then the Road Runner
Rocks on my wrist, rolls gold under
Glocks on my hip, those throw thunder
Im buying diamond by the pier
But when you stop, the only thing still spinning is your ear
Yeah, im riding with that all black snub
Raiders cap back, all black gloves
Im 80s man, but the boy smack thugs
These record sales equal more back rubs
Not to mention I bought a pack of clubs
His impacts about as raw as crack was
Now all these new artists getting raw deals
Im only 21, sitting on mills

[Chorus]
We on fire
Up in here, it's burning hot
We on fire
Shorty take it off if it get to hot, up in this spot
We on fire
Tear the roof off this motherf*cker, light the roof on fire
Nigga what you say
We get loose in this motherf*cker, light the roof on fire fire fire

[Verse 2]
If you know anything about me, then you know im a baller
If I aint hit the first night, I aint gon call her
Im trying to play, you trying to have my daughter
But I can't blame her for what her momma taught her
And I don't care bout what the next nigga bought her
Cause I aint putting no baguettes in her butter
I got a diamond about as clear as water
And I got bread, but I aint spend quarters
So cut the games ma, lets go in the back
Matter fact, turn your ass round, back a nigga down
And I aint bias when im riding through the town
Like em small, like em tall, like em black, like em brown
She gotta be able to cum when I need her
Tight ass pants, little wife beater
Regular chick or R&B diva
Bitch say something, I aint a mind reader

[Chorus]
We on fire
Up in here, it's burning hot
We on fire
Shorty take it off if it get to hot, up in this spot
We on fire
Tear the roof off this motherf*cker, light the roof on fire
Nigga what you say
We get loose in this motherf*cker, light the roof on fire fire fire

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Kwame B. Holland, Curtis James Jackson, Christopher Charles Lloyd, Marshall Bruce Mathers, Harry Palmer, Luis Edgardo Resto, Andrew Loveday
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Universal Music Publishing Group






I Get High

[ Featuring 50 Cent, Snoop Dogg ]

[Lloyd Banks]
I know, I ain't supposed to smoke in here
But Mr. Bouncer Man, don't put your motherf*ckin hands on me
(Can I get high) - without you botherin me
Everybody you see in here tonight's
doin the same thing, so why you keep player hatin on me?
(Can I get high) - without you botherin me

[50] Ay, did you hit this shit?

[Chorus x2: G-Unit]
That la lah-lah, I be smokin
Be gettin me right, I be loc'n
Them bullshit trees, you be rollin
barely gives you a buzz, me I get HIGH!

[Lloyd Banks]
I admit I got a problem, I keep comin back for these
doe-doe bags, and not your 'gnac or your sack of seeds
I chill, sit back on the sofa and relax my knees
And roll one up loose enough to make the backwards breathe
I blow a heavy load, you can subtract some G's
cause I'm a smoker, too much of this to choke ya
I don't mean to provoke ya, but I'm a bad influence
A musician can't operate without his instruments
My recent success rapidly got your bitch convinced
Haters mad they can't look inside cause I pitched the tints
I enter the club with baggies of that chocolate
The secondhand smoke'll make a nigga wanna start shit
Sometimes I think bout where the niggaz from the start went
Raise up a lighter and f*ck up the whole apartment
It's just one of them things that I do with my spare time
My bad habits ain't private, so I'ma share mine

[Chorus]

[Lloyd Banks]
Now they put they hands out, cause of the way shit bend
So you niggaz ain't smokin if you don't chip in
Listen, I waited long for these rocks to glisten
From that one-room pad without a pot to piss in
Overt betrayal is not forgiven, I do this
for my niggaz locked up that's comin home to lobster livin
Helpin the cop's forbidden, bout to buy momma her own mansion
Just so I can see her pop the ribbon
That Cali bud special, so special I held the blunt so long
Snoop had to tell me, "Pass the weed nephew!"
F*ck rap, I'm the wrong one to get pissed off
Cause the pump'll make you "Jump" like Kris Kross
My nigga dead and it's hard to let go
So I'm blowin on that wet doe, same color as Gecko
We follow hood codes and everybody in the set know
We gas 'em, f*ck 'em and pass 'em, what you expect ho?

[Chorus]

[Snoop Dogg]
Say 'gain won't you blow it with the best of them
Yes yes I blessted them, blazed up the purple palm trees
I told dem don't mess wit dem, I hold dem no testament
Do you want to smoke wit me?
Weed rollin, G-strollin, bad-mouthin muh'f*cker
Law breakin, pimp slappin niggaz for the f*ck of it
Hip-Hoppin, ziplockin, riprockin gangbanger
"Thought you was an actor," thought I was a singer
Thought about ridin if you say you wanna hang tough
D.P.G. unit sounds like danger
You might wanna manage your anger
Hang with us and stop smokin on the same stuff
Now lay back on the law
This new weed that I got I call it face off
Cause it'll blow your face off and that's a figure of speech
My niggaz a beast, on me, from the West to the East, preach!

[Chorus]
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: CALVIN BROADUS, TONY COTTRELL, CURTIS JAMES JACKSON, CHRISTOPHER LLOYD
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., THE BICYCLE MUSIC COMPANY






Playboy

[DJ Whoo Kid:] Aw man , can I get a raw please
Is y'all ready, is y'all ready
For the main event, Damn
Lloyd Banks

[Verse 1]

Guess who's the man this winter straight out the land of sinners
The Range with hella spinners check out the white wrist
Roll with the damn winners or you and your man's finished
You and your Rams fitted turn off the light switch
Holdin' my torch down even when the force 'round
You let your wife roll she want a divorce now
You niggas ain't this gully playas'll paint ya skully
You'll never take this from me
The riders and the gangstas with me
([Whoo Kid:] God Damn)
You shouldn't be a problem I ain't be a problem
See ya later, I read ya head you be a Rodman (What)
I know ya type, hoppin all over the beat screamin'
You call it hypin' yaself up I call it street dreamin'
I do it for all of the haters the playas ball with the gators
They lookin' forward to favors gossip is all they gave us
You niggas wasn't quiet, meet the whales and fishes (Whoo)
You lit the precinct up playin' tattle tale with the snitches
Even my momma knows I got all kind of hoes
They wait outside the show stripped after the diner closed
I'll be designer clothes without the winer woes
Take off my baby blue mink and Carolina bowls
Come here, take a look inside a entertainer's closet
I never trust a bitch, I blame Lorainna Bobbit
Niggas stay and pocket
I know you're made at me but shit ain't all peaches and cream
And I ain't Sara Lee bitch (C'mon)

[Chorus]
Don't ice me
You starin' at the wrong one
There's a lot of girls here
Go and get up on one (What)
We at the bar poppin' bottles 'til they all gone
If you ain't leavin' here wit us
You gon' walk home (Whoo)
Go someone else where
They know how we ride
If you a playboy, you got one on each side
Keep your mouth closed, we don't let the beef ride

(What)
Ride
(What)
Ride
(What)
Ride
(God Damn Let's Go)

[Verse 2]

I do this for the hood, niggas stuck in the slammer
I smile cuz I'm good, you act tough for the camera (Whoo)
Learn from the hood kids, they ain't f*ckin' wit Santa
Cuz they like Tupac more, (Word) Word to my grandma
I figure I might as well leave here with my glock drawn
Cuz they'll take you to jail even when you not wrong
Dog your not this flashy, dogs you got to blast me
Every rock is classy, nobody on your block can match me (Whoo)
You shouldn't want to fight, unless you wanna fight
For your life in the Hospital for hundred nights
I know your type, run behind your girlfriend rushin'
You call it quality time, I call it handcuffin'
I'm on the beach in Miami, cellular reachin' my family
All the weekend in panties from Puerto Rican canny
You niggas wasn't tough, I should've snapped some pics
You wear ya pants tight, play pitty pat wit the chicks (Damn)
Even my father knows where the revolver goes
I bring the beef to ya front door like Dominoes
And my diamonds froze that means my time froze
Be in the club from when it's poppin' 'til the time it close (What)
Half of these so-called real niggas'll probably sing
Naw I ain't pullin' over, learned that from Rodney King
So tell ya homey chill you know I hold the steel
Everything from jabs to hooks and you ain't Holyfield, nigga (Damn)

[Chorus]
Don't ice me
You starin' at the wrong one (Whoo)
There's a lot of girls here
Go and get up on one
We at the bar poppin' bottles 'til they all gone
If you ain't leavin' here wit us
You gon' walk home
Go someone else where
They know how we ride
If you a playboy, you got one on each side
Keep your mouth closed, we don't let the beef ride

Everybody on the left get yo hands up (Get ya hands up)
Everybody on the right get yo hands up (Get ya hands up)
Everybody up front get yo hands up (Get ya hands up)
And everybody out back get yo hands up (What)
And if you in here wit a strap get yo hands up (What)
Now put 'em up (Put 'em up)
Now put 'em up (Put 'em up)
Now put 'em up (Put 'em up)
Now put 'em up (Put 'em up)
Now put 'em up (Put 'em up)
What, man f*ck what he said
Man put 'em up (Put 'em up)
Now put 'em up (Put 'em up)
Now put 'em up (Put 'em up)
Now put 'em up (Put 'em up)
Now put 'em up (Put 'em up)
Now put 'em up (Put 'em up)
Ohhhhhhhh
([Lloyd Banks] what Whoo Kid)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: CARLTON HINES
Copyright: Lyrics © NW ROYALTY CONSULTING, LLC.






Work Magic

[ Featuring Young Buck ]

I'm gon' ride, I'm gon' ride, they gon' ride, we all gon' ride,
(yea)
I come from the heart of southside (yea)
Holdin' it down for my niggas that died (yea)
I gotta busy bird on my side (yea)
Pop shit and get yo whole mouth wide (yea)

Baby had tried to steal off the payroll
Ill have niggas scrappin' the skin off the ya face with the same
Shit they peal a potato (whoo)
I thank the lord for my blessings and I'm glad he gave us the
Will power and reflexes of Larry Davis (ohh)
You don't wanna see my block formin' (uh huh)
That's a 101 doggs and I don't mean the ones with the spots on 'em
Were respected highly
'cause you don't need to practice gymnastics to catch a body
(oh)
Me and moneys like Whitney, next to Bobby (uh huh)
If I bring all my niggas I'll need an extra lobby (uh huh)
As soon as you ain't around Jake (Jake)
You getcha ass whipped for chips
Now that's the real definition of pound cake
I got the crown snake
And you can tell when I'm shoppin' 'cause when the mall stampedin'
You'll feel the ground shake
I got a car I only drive on Thursdays (ha ha)
I'm a stunna', banks blows more cake then birthdays

[Chorus]

Look at here, ain't nobody 'round here scared (uh uh)
I'm headin' for the top and I'm almost there
Oh yeah this shiny shit right here
Ill work magic and make you niggas disappear

Look at here, ain't nobody 'round here scared
I'm headin' for the top and I'm almost there
Oh yeah this shiny shit right here
Ill work magic and make you niggas disappear

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 fif .45 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 sell
You get yo head cracked and niggas don't run and tell
Its like we sell crack get caught head back to jail
We on that f*ck the police shit
We livin' in hell
You betta' guard yo grill homey
And stand yo ground
These bullets burn
They hit who evers standin' around
I never learn 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
(boom)
If its beef then I'm ready to ride
Just come to casheville you can find me on the south side
(motherf*cka')

[Chorus]

Now I ain't from Michigan but I'm in the Fab 5
You know, Yayo and 50, Buck and Game, You know my f*ckin' name
Whether the truck or train
My minds stuck on the grind
'cause somewhere down the line, a lot of suckas came
Yeah ain't talkin' shit
But we can all tell he ass
Jags are black his eyes like the are-Kelly mask (ah)
You gotta blast me yo (yo)
'cause the Louisville will have yo head lookin' like the top of a
Pistachio
The young gunner with a raspy flow
Got every boyfriend thinkin' they girlfriends a nasty hoe
My heart laughin' a small
Maybe its 'cause my grandpop dropped right after the ball
Banks hops out bulletproof this, bulletproof that, bulletproofs
Snorkle when you hot they hawk you
I got the hood on my shoulda
Chain big as a boulder
The 357 tucka
Motherf*cka'

[Chorus]

Yeah
Motherf*cka'
I'm here, yeah
Lloyd banks
G-G-G-G-G G-Unit!
Money by any means, nigga
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: MARC SHEMER, DARRELL BROWN, CHRISTOPHER LLOYD
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group






If You So Gangsta

[Intro:]
Yea! Yea
I done learned from mistakes like who's my man and who's not
Like who's gone run and who's not?
Like who's gone shoot if you shot?
Who gone hold they own who's not
Who's gone choose spots?

[Chorus:]
In the streets of New York you can't trust nobody
Niggas'll run up on you with a 12-gauge shotty
Loyalty comes free and smokin' weed is my hobby
You wanna rob me your gonna leave here with a body

[Verse 1:]
Around here them boys, 'dem don
When I was 10 years old I seen a nigga take 3 in the head
Prolly around the same time I used to pee in the bed
I stay a wake cause my nightmares of seeing him dead
The smell of burnt tire after leaving him lead
The killer fled with a f**kin laugh
My heart pumpin' on blast I just stared at him slumped in the grass
Arms moving figure shaking spitting up blood
DNA mixed in the mud another ditch to be dug
There I stood stiffer than wood
See homie use to buy me candy
Now he's gone whose provide his family
My ear ringing should have been runnin'
I never thought I could be that sick
Damn I wasn't supposed to see that shit
That's when I thought it was more than 3 shots
He could have been aiming for me
Maybe he circled around the block
I turn around to my pops
He like what happen?
This nigga rolled up and just started clappin'
I can still hear em' laughin'

[Chorus]

[Verse 2:]
It was a regular day in Southside
Sprink-aklers kids running all of a sudden
Heads turnin somebody did somethin'
This nigga name I forgot
F**k it he lived around the block
Regular getting money nigga
But love to clown a lot
Walked across the park stuntin' frontin'
Diamond in his hear diamond watch on
Eatin' a bag of popcorn
Walked up behind this shorty grabbin' her waist
She pushed him away so he threw the bag in her face
She felt disrespected shorty couldn't except it
Called him a p**sy told him she be back in a second
He didn't pay her no mind called her b**ch bout 4 times
Stayed in the park with no niggas with a mano nine
Then in no time older nigga
From behind swung a baseball bat
Left his face all cracked told him take all that
Hit him again popped his chain with a frown
Left the clown with his stain on the ground

[Chorus]

[Verse 3:]
And all my days go by blowin that sticky icky
California made me picky chicken heads tryin to stick me with a hicky
If we go up quickly stick me
Somewhere tipsy the location don't matter
I'm Southside to they hit me
I'd be dead if looks can kill
I'm from the ghetto boys
But I don't know scarface
Or Bushwick Bill
My heart spills for the kids
That ain't got nothing
They gotta steal and
For my cousin I lost
Leftover I still remember you
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: DERRICK PROSPER, CHRISTOPHER LLOYD, M CLERVOIX, C BURNETTE
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, CHAD BURNETTE D/B/A CHAD B. PUBLISHING






Warrior Pt. 2

[ Featuring Eminem, 50 Cent, Nate Dogg ]

[Intro - Eminem]
Remix [echoes]
Lloyd Banks! [echoes]
Ha ha! [echoes]

[Verse 1 - Eminem]
It's like a throne that he dont even own
He wont sit down, given the crown he just throws it around
It's like a joke he's like a king, but he dont rule a thing
He dont want the diamonds, want the gold or want the jewelry
He dont want the fame dont want the lute he's in this for a sport
Runnin suckaz with the competition round the court
He appreciates your support but he aint beggin for it
And you cant love it you can hate it but you cant ignore it
You cant be that ignorant but you can try to sell him short
But you cant f*ck with his last joint or the one before it
And he was gonna raise hell like them country boys
And if I'm frontin then you better come confront me for it

[Chorus - Nate Dogg]
This Is The Story Of A Warrior I Kno U Kno It
Tru Warrior Go Ahead Make Some Noise
It aint healthy To Be Makin Niggaz Paranoid
Hit Your Corner With More Weapons I Dont Need My Boyz
Im Doin About 120 On The Fast Lane
Kick Back Just Relax Let Me Do My Thang
Dont Give a F*ck About You Suckas Gotta Maintain
Money Power And Respect In This Rap Game

[Verse 2 - Lloyd Banks]
He's straight outta the neighborhood but Niggaz hate
They see you go and eat your dinner off a bigger plate
Your stomachs ache while he's loungin at the big estate
And he hops in a 100 thousands with a Nigga's gate
House with just a bigger gate , houndin him's a big mistake
He wont surrender he'd rather give up a rib to break
Cuz he remember when they wouldnt lend a helpin hand
So he was sittin on green like a Celtic fan
Created a buzz so when you gotta mention his name
When you discuss him the illest playa that's in the game
And he's ridin with Em, 50 cent, Doc and them
G Unit records aint no motherf*ckin stoppin them

[Chorus - Nate Dogg]
This Is The Story Of A Warrior I Kno U Kno It
Tru Warrior Go Ahead Make Some Noise
It aint healthy To Be Makin Niggaz Paranoid
Hit Your Corner With More Weapons I Dont Need My Boyz
Im Doin About 120 On The Fast Lane
Kick Back Just Relax Let Me Do My Thang
Dont Give a F*ck About You Suckas Gotta Maintain
Money Power And Respect In This Rap Game

[Verse 3 - 50 Cent]
He's no magician man they can't made somethin outta nothin
So those niggaz from his hood act like we owe em somethin
They talk crazy til we send this nigga in there to f*ck em
Ask 'em if theres a problem and they'll say naw its nothin
He's been tryin to help em out, but since they fronted, f*ck em
He dont care how they feel theyre makin em love em
He hold it down on his own the kid is really thuggin
He's rich now, he aint change since these Niggaz buggin
He bullet proof everything Niggaz try to buck him
Keep ya pistols on ya hip I show you we aint tuck em
Niggaz say they gon' get at him but they cant touch him
Try to catch em slippin, they creepin and he start bustin

[Chorus - Nate Dogg]
This Is The Story Of A Warrior I Kno U Kno It
Tru Warrior Go Ahead Make Some Noise
It AInt Nothin' To Be Makin' Niggaz Paranoid
Hit Your Corner With More Weapons I Don't Need My Boyz
Im Doin' About 120 On The Fast Lane
Kick Back Just Relax Let Me Do My Thang
Dont Give a F*ck About You Suckas Gotta Maintain
Money Power And Respect In This Rap Game

[Nate Dogg]
I can give you somethin' you can talk about
I can turn this smile upside down
You ain't no G-Unit f*ckin' clown
I can take your girl until I turn her out
The bootey layed all out
I can give you f*ckin' somethin' to be mad about
Invite her in send her back out
With my DNA all in her mouth
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: CHRISTOPHER CHARLES LLOYD, CURTIS JAMES JACKSON, LUIS EDGARDO RESTO, MARSHALL B. III MATHERS, NATHANIEL D. HALE, S. KING
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Universal Music Publishing Group






Karma

Oh, ooh ooh ooh (uh), aw yeah (uh huh)
Ooh ooh ooh, aw yeah (yeah, yeah, uh)

I am the one you denied
Brushed me off every time I tried
But I'm alright
I'm able to swallow my pride
And put all the bullshit to the side
If you ready to ride
I'm down for a one night stand
I'll accept it any way that I can
'Cause I ain't yo man
I'll try for whatever it's worth
Just remember who played who first, yeah yeah

Uh, I can't keep my eyes off ya
I can tell why them other guys lost ya
Your kinds rarer than a flyin' saucer
And that's what I can offer
Similarities in our characters
Haven't ya heard the word 'round town?
How I get down? (yeah)
They gon' whistle
Everybody part is official
And that ass wit' you
Got my dick hard as a missile
Don't hop on top
'Cause I ride around with a pistol
If they pull us over, I'll be out of town wit' a issue
If you was mine I'd introduce you to mama, girl (oh, ooh ooh ooh, aw yeah)
Your stylin' in your boots and Gabbana
I'm so used to your Prada (baby)
I take trips cause out in Houston, its hotter (oh, ooh ooh ooh, aw yeah)
Throw in that Al Green and juice the Impala
Lay my jewels on my collar
Ya had me feelin' like a fool when I holla'd
Tryna squeeze in but you wasn't bothered
Now I ain't either
Soon as I realize that I ain't need her
She in a rush to get close to me, but I ain't eager, shit

I am the one you denied
Brushed me off every time I tried
But I'm alright
I'm able to swallow my pride
And put all the bullshit to the side
If you ready to ride
I'm down for a one night stand
I'll accept it any way that I can
'Cause I ain't yo man (uh)
I'll try for whatever it's worth
Just remember who played who first, yeah, yeah (uh)

Look I don't mean to bother you
But your sex appeal is remarkable
You make a G wanna walk around in a park wit' you
There ain't no tellin' the kinda things I'ma start to do
If I get wrapped up on your ass too fast
I can tell you feel the same 'cause when I ask, you laugh
So I'ma leave it at that, take a hint and put in my math (ooh)
I imagine you prolly look twice as good in the bath
And I'm buggin'
'Cause I can see you right in the hood when I pass (oh, ooh ooh ooh, aw yeah)
I'm never stable, 'cause business is on my ass
But you can be the one that I visit before I dash
And I admit, I been the type to hit and split (oh, ooh ooh ooh, aw yeah)
But you can blame me for the females that I been gettin' wit'
'Cause most of these broads has had they eyes on my grit
To the eager shit and learned to be satisfied with the dick (ooh)
And if you ain't worth it then that's all you get
I ain't gon' blame you, I'ma blame all you tricks
'Cause

I am the one you denied
Brushed me off every time I tried
But I'm alright
I'm able to swallow my pride
And put all the bullshit to the side
If you ready to ride
I'm down for a one night stand
I'll accept it any way that I can
'Cause I ain't yo man
I'll try for whatever it's worth
Just remember who played who first, yeah, yeah

You seem like your attitude
Only appears when I'm mad at you
When several situations occur and that includes
When I'm gone too long, ridin' through them avenues
As soon as I get home (you know, oh yeah), there's rumors and scattered news
You know my fantasies, am I feelin' things or can this be
Your girlfriend tryna sandwich me
My hearts colder then sandwich meat
'Cause I come from the hood where the hammers be (yeah, yeah)
I move fast but I switch pace (switch pace)
And pop a Listerine strip in, before you get all up in a bitch face
Movin' your body like this
Gon' make me blow like a bottle of Crist'
Man, I don't know no one hotter than Twist
You got my temperature risin' from your hips to you're thighs and
That glare in your eyes that brighten up her horizon (yeah)
It comes naturally, I don't bribe 'em
Its easy as, 1-2-3, and I slide in

I am the one you denied (yeah)
Brushed me off every time I tried
But I'm alright
I'm able to swallow my pride
And put all the bullshit to the side
If you ready to ride
I'm down for a one night stand
I'll accept it any way that I can
'Cause I ain't yo man
I'll try for whatever it's worth
Just remember who played who first, yeah yeah

(I am) I am the one you denied (ooh-ooh)
Brushed me off every time tried (ooh yeah)
But I'm alright
I'm able to swallow my pride (yeah)
And put all the bullshit to the side
If you ready to ride (woah)
I'm down for a one night stand (oh ooh)
I'll accept it any way that I can (oh ooh)
'Cause I ain't yo man
I'll try for whatever it's worth
Just remember who played who first, yeah yeah

Oh, ooh ooh ooh, aw yeah
Ooh ooh ooh, aw yeah
Oh, ooh ooh ooh, aw yeah
Ooh ooh ooh, aw yeah
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Christopher Charles Lloyd, Gregory M. Doby, Charles Henry Jr. Jackson, Marvin Jerome Yancy
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Exploration Group LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.






When The Chips Are Down

[ Featuring The Game ]

[Lloyd Banks]

Yee! [laughs]

[Chorus: Lloyd Banks]

These niggas wanna see me
Cuz of the way I shine
But it aint that easy
To get mine
You get ya ass laid down

[Voice in beat]

Down...
The paint is peelin'
Now...
When the chips are down
Down...
You gotta lose all feelin
Now...
Your head goes round n' round

[Verse 1: Lloyd Banks]

Funny how the world revolves around my click
Cuz just a year ago a nigga ain't have shit (damn)
Me and my right hand share the same outfit
Which fueled the fire that I air the game out with (whoo)
It's amazing the way that boy came out quick
For that platinum niggas'll blows ya brains out, shit (bap)
I'm the new nigga the others can't stand
The rubberband man be god damned if I can (oh)
Let another nigga fill my spot
If a niggas steal from me it's the steel I pop
I'm on my grind so if you thought I chill, I'm not
gon' stop lettin that steering peel on the block, why not?

[Chorus x2]

[Verse 2: The Game]

Banks they think I'm yayos replacement, nah
I borrowed his gunits to walk through the matrix
I'm signed to the Doctor I ain't got no patience
So he put me with 50 Cent now I got a face lift
Magazines wanna know where they f*ck L.A. been
It almost died in the same car Suge got grazed in
2001 I was playin my playstation
I heard 9 shots , I'm face down with my heart pacing
All I could think about as hidin' my gun and my drugs in the basement
It was either that or the state pen
I woke up out of that coma
Police waitin' for a statement... (heart monitor beeps to flatline)

[Chorus]

[Verse 3: Lloyd Banks]

Pass the weed and let a nigga get into a zone
Papa left me all alone in the world to roam
But now I'm grown, millionaires on my cell phone
A year past now, caw dead and L gone
And I'm sick, bought chopper with a long click
So think about that before you make your songs dick (dick)
Or lose a limb, please don't get me confused with him (uh uh)
Cause I'm down to go a whole round, lose or win
If I should die, ride a G through the hood with pride (ride)
Every strip, block, and projects is on my side
I'm ghetto calm by the 100 grand on my arms (arms)
Sick watching of a 100 grand on my charm (whoo)... broke nigga

[Chorus x2]
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: DERRICK PROSPER, RICKY SMITH, CHRISTOPHER LLOYD, JAYCEON TAYLOR, M CLERVOIX
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group






Til The End

Nobody dead knew they would die before they woke
It probably started off a beautiful day with weed smoke
Out of last night's pussy the murder that she wrote
Cold sweatin from a nightmare mind on a c-note
You leave the door open of intensions of fulfillin your visions
Constantly sidetracked thinking about who's your man and who isn't
Maybe its necessary...maybe you're overreacting
Maybe your actual downfall is that hole that you clappin
Maybe ya pullin conversations that are controllin ya actions
Maybe your homie overheard and never told you what happened
You look behind you when you turn the corna
Cause death has promised ya you seen some niggas go before ya
N' threats are honest...n with that lingering in the back of ya head
Ya know it's possible that you wont make back in ya bed
The confusion of jealously and dishonor'll spin ya
But there's nothing that hurt worse then when that gun powders in ya

[Chorus: Ft. Nate Dogg]

If you my nigga you my nigga till the end (whoa)
F*ck a bill, f*ck a bitch, f*ck a benz (my friend....whoa)
Let's toast till we die
Roll up the weed and blow the smoke in the sky (na na na)
If you my nigga you my nigga till we go (whoa)
One of the few I would take a bullet fo (my neegaaaro...whoa)
Let's toast till we die
Roll up the weed and blow the smoke in the sky (na na na)

[Verse 2: Lloyd Banks]

The smell of marijuana reeks off me
I raise hell before I speak softly
Caught in the mix
Put at least a hundred grand on one and bought him a six
Acknowledged the weaknesses that his man he taught him to fix
We aint never left the hood so we cam corded the trips
I've done watched a nigga go from BET to the bricks...shit
Her slanted eyes with ya chocolate Thai gave me
Im a bachelor... nigga u aint knockin my lady
A lot of these niggas been jockin mine lately
N' I hope you catch the long nap, rock-a-bye baby (gun shot)
When 2 brothers, pushed outta different mamas
Close enough to conflict or put this shit behind us
ya baby boy made the big time
Hoes is watching n' these niggas trying to get mine
Remember back then with lines n' ya flattop
Hoping ya moms aint the mama on crack rock

[Chorus: Ft. Nate Dogg]

If you my nigga you my nigga till the end (whoa)
F*ck a bill, f*ck a bitch, f*ck a benz (my friend....whoa)
Let's toast till we die
Roll up the weed and blow the smoke in the sky (na na na)
If you my nigga you my nigga till we go (whoa)
One of the few I would take a bullet fo (my neegaaaro...whoa)
Let's toast till we die
Roll up the weed and blow the smoke in the sky (na na na)

[Verse 3: Lloyd Banks]

I keep my mind on my money and my head to the sky
I never really smile much if you was here you'd know why
There's frustration and fire if you look in my eye
The media f*ckin me up, right hookin my high
Niggas hated on us before the game took us inside
then they opened their arms wide took the whooping' n' cried
I got a platinum plaque hangin' on the wall in my crib
And handsome is one of the things they've been callin the kid
They watch you close when you coppin all those VS stones
If you ain't tryin to get it poppin leave the BS home
I've got us a ditty broad that gives thee best dome
And im blowin on some of the finest weed that's grown...homes
You won't know when they gon' dump a slug
But you can tell im getting money from the line out in front the club
My whole click caked up, u can't compare the doe
And if its only one bitch don't even share a hoe

[Chorus: Ft. Nate Dogg]

If you my nigga you my nigga till the end (whoa)
F*ck a bill, f*ck a bitch, f*ck a benz (my friend....whoa)
Let's toast till we die
Roll up the weed and blow the smoke in the sky (na na na)
If you my nigga you my nigga till we go (whoa)
One of the few I would take a bullet fo (my neegaaaro...whoa)
Let's toast till we die
Roll up the weed and blow the smoke in the sky (na na na)

[After Chorus: Nate Dogg]

If you my nigga you my nigga till the end (Whoaaaaaaaaa)
My friennnnnnd (Whoaaaaaaaa)
Na na na

If you my nigga you my nigga till we go (Whoaaaaaaaaa)
My nee-ga-row (Whoaaaaaaaaa)
Na na na
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: CHRISTOPHER CHARLES LLOYD, LUIS EDGARDO RESTO, MARSHALL B. III MATHERS
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group






Die One Day

[VERSE 1]

(uh huh)

I keep my hip on pound
Cause chickens hectic in my town
Drag my family with me cause that's how real niggas get down (gea)
If it wasn't for 50 I probably wouldn't be around (gea)
Caught up in the temptation sitting in jail or in the ground (gea)
If for that if you snap a finger and I'll lay a nigga down (whoo)
It's f*cked up when you're only facial expression is a frown (uh huh)
A hood rat will put a future in a fool's pants
Till she find out you can't buy furniture with food stamps (uh huh)
A year ago I made a decision before I shut my eyelids
Better if I get shot tomorrow cause I don't like surprises
When you hot as an oven they with open arms
When you cold as a freezer niggas treat you like they don't need ya
Some people call it ?? me I call it amnesia
Live my life principal driven never bite that hand that feeds you (uh)
Never mind all the haters f*ck'em all let them die slow
All I need is my niggas, money, liquor and hydro (I kno)

[CHORUS x2]

Everybody gon' die one day
Whether it's natural cause it's a gunplay
But f*ckin with me you sliding down a one way
I keep it gangsta from Monday to Sunday

[VERSE 2]

Don't blame me
Blame my mom and pop for breeding this (uh huh)
The game needed this
Lloyd Banks AKA Mr. I don't feed a bitch
Don't need a bitch
I stay there when I need a bitch
You want a trick you need to switch
Cause I don't think you could beat this bitch (whoa)
This is all I gotta have to blow
So whether it's fast or slow
Platinum flow making it easy to kidnap a hoe (uh huh)
Pop the back
Pass the dro
Roll about a half an O
The git citizenship my pimp is international (yee)
You gotta agree
These motherf*ckas will probably find
Bin Laden before they find a nigga hotter than me
We on top as far as I can see
And since the hood watching me
My regular trip to the mall is a shopping spree (damn)
I'm the #1 draft pick none of ya'll are topping me (uh huh)
I move around with the plastic you ain't dropping me (uh huh)
They show me love on my city
They f*ckin with me and I'm f*ckin with them
Nigga G-Unit till the end (Gea)

[CHORUS x2]

[Lloyd Banks]

Ya six inches from a coffin (coffin)
So I suggest you stop talkin (talkin)
And make me result to violence (violence)
And you'll no longer be walkin (walkin)
Ya six inches from a coffin (coffin)
So I suggest you stop talkin (talkin)
And make me result to violence (violence) Nigga.. (nigga)

Yeee..

You gotta love it!
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: CHRISTOPHER CHARLES LLOYD, DAVID PORTER, RONNIE WILLIAMS
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group






South Side Story

Yeah, Yeah, Yeah

I done learned from mistakes like who's my men, and who's not
Like who's gone run, but who's not
Like who's gone shoot if you shot
Who gone hold it and who's not
Who gone change spots

[Chorus]
In the streets of New York, you can't trust nobody
Niggaz'll run up on you with a 12-gauge shotty
Loyalty comes free, smokin' weed is my hobby
You want to rob me, you gotta leave here with a body
In the streets of New York, You can't trust nobody
Niggaz'll run up on you with a 12-gauge shotty
Loyalty comes free, smokin' weed is my hobby
You want to rob me, you gotta leave here with a body

[Verse 1]
When I was ten years old, I seen a nigga take three in the head
Probably around the same time he used to pee in the bed
I stayed awake, cause my nightmares was seein' 'em dead
Smelled the burnt tires peelin' after leavin' him lead
The killer fled, with a f*ckin' laugh
My heart pumpin' on blast
I just started at him, slumped in the grass
Arms movin', fingers shakin', spittin' up blood
DNA mixed in the mud, another ditch to be dug
There I stood, stiffer than wood
See homey used to buy me candy
Now he's gone, who gone provide his family?
My earring, shoulda been runnin'
I never thought I'd be that sick
Damn, I wasn't 'posed to see that shit
That's when I thought
It was more than three shots
He coulda been waitin for me, maybe he circled around the block
I turned around at my pops, he like "what happened?"
This nigga rolled up and just started clappin'
I can still hear him laughin'
[Chorus]

[Verse 2]
It was a regular day in South Side, sprinklers and kids runnin'
All of a sudden, head's turnin', somebody did somethin'
This nigga named, I forgot, f*ck it, he lived around the block
Regular gettin' money nigga, but loved to clown a lot
Walked across the park, stuntin', frontin'
Diamonds in his ear, diamond watch on
Eatin' a bag of popcorn
Walked up behind a shorty, grabbin' her waist
She pushed him away, so he threw the bag in her face
She felt disrespected, shorty couldn't accept it
Called him a pussy, told him she'd be back in a second
But he din't pay her no mind
Called her a bitch about four times
Stayed in the park, wit' no niggaz wit' em and no nine
And them in no time, older nigga from behind
Swung a baseball bat, left his face all crack
Told him "take all that"
Hit him again, popped his chain wit' a frown
And left the clown, with a stain on the ground

[Chorus]

[Verse 3]
All my days go by blowin' that sticky, icky
California made me picky
Chicken head tried to stick me wit' a hickey
If we, blow up quickly, stickly, somewhere tipsy
The location don't matter, I'm South Side until' they hit me
I'll be DEAD
If looks can kill, I'm from the ghetto boys
But I don't know Scarface, I push wit' bill
My heart spills
For the kids that ain't got nothin' ain't got it still
And for my, cousin I lost
Humped over the steerin' wheel

[Chorus]
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: CHRISTOPHER CHARLES LLOYD, BARRY EUGENE WHITE
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management, Universal Music Publishing Group, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.






Back to: Lloyd Banks


The Hunger for More is the debut solo studio album by American rapper Lloyd Banks. Originally scheduled for a May 25, 2004 release, the album was ultimately dropped on June 29, 2004 through G-Unit Records and Interscope Records.

Recording sessions took place at Sony Studios, Spydadome, Right Track Studios and Teamwork Studios in New York, The Power House at Metropolis Studios in London, The Big House in Farmington, The Hit Factory Criteria in Miami, and 54 Sound in Detroit.

Production was handled by Eminem, Sha Money XL, Baby Grand, Black Jeruz, Chad Beat, Greg "Jinx" Doby, Havoc, Hi-Tek, Kwamé, Ron Browz, Scram Jones, Thayod Ausar, The Diaz Brothers and Timbaland, with co-producer Danja and additional producer Luis Resto. It features guest appearances from fellow G-Unit members 50 Cent, The Game, Tony Yayo and Young Buck, as well as Nate Dogg, Eminem and Snoop Dogg.

The album debuted atop the Billboard 200 albums chart in the United States, at number two on the Canadian Albums Chart and peaked at number 15 on the UK Albums Chart. It was certified Platinum by the Recording Industry Association of America and Music Canada and Gold by the British Phonographic Industry.

It was supported with three charted singles: "On Fire", "I'm So Fly" and "Karma". Its lead single received a Grammy Award for Best Rap Solo Performance nomination at the 47th Annual Grammy Awards.
Performed By: Lloyd Banks
Genre(s): Hip hop
Producer(s): Baby Grand, Black Jeruz, Chad Beatz, Eminem, Greg "Jinx" Doby, Havoc, Hi-Tek, Kwamé, Ron Browz, Scram Jones, Sha Money XL, Thayod Ausar, The Diaz Brothers, Timbaland
Length: 55:25
Released: June 29th, 2004
Year: 2004

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