Lloyd Banks - Banks Workout Ii lyrics

I Been problem since the old days tims and gold caps now im in oj simpson throwbacks you all was wonderin where my a** been probally vacatin in south beach gettin head like a** breathin through gas i can let the tech pound ur ego lock you in the closet with the westnile mosquito the press crowd the people espicially celebritys heavily sh**tin any tom dick or gregory n***a you better be strappin they want you dead if you rappin iam tryin to cave your head in you backin iam gettin bread and relaxin and attractin the fan base of females and emails and letters to fax in in vegas with a toaster n a blunt and the hotel i checked in got a roller coaster in the front hollerin poster when i stunt the sammy sosa of the month better yet the whole seas and n***a iam still breathin even though my dollars are green i rap for the kids thats to poor to waste eggs on halloween iam gettin swallow clean my habits are good collectin all the carrots i could slidin from the stash box to conceal extortion and a good silencer to make it sound like the wheel of fortune all this careless talkin cause im travelin and flossin havin a good time and u havin a abortion you s**er for love gettin married and divorced than you cant even afford the batteries 4 ur walkman man im out the hood burnin cali weed on slauson when set trip can turn to tragedys and coffins i mean what im sayin you schemin iam sprayin ur team isnt playin on the sofa screamin and and prayin sayin gunit n***as be rollin crazy holdin 80s older ladies starin cause they starin at he gold mercedes since 50 hooked up with shady now they tryin to brook up to pay me if u think iam shook up u crazy baby the boy strapped two ninas smokin out a bag big enough to fit in vaccum cleaners i wear a glove when i blaze a fatty, i aint ur baby daddy, u flippin now he tryin to grab me out that navy caddie, i aint ur avy, poppa was a rollin stone, stockin up the hona home, pocket full of loaded chrome, drop n get a hold a dome, i know ur motive homes, u mad cause im f**in half ur motorolla phone, im swift with the wemon im good wit my words, alota, n***as is hatin on what i deserve im hotta, front if u want end up on the curb in ur prada, and ur mans runnin ambulance come, another day another dollar on the low from the impala i can have a six some in my shower, mother f**a!