Lloyd Banks - Set The Pick (Unreleased) lyrics

[Verse 1: Kidd Kidd] How many licks do a n***a gotta hit just to come up on a brick Like Craig hit Deebo with Take team work to ball man, someone set the pick I come around shootin' like swish, quote this If I can't make nothin', I'm gon' take somethin' Feds comin', one of y'all n***as done said somethin' Long as I remain here I'm gon' stay thuggin' Rap don't pay the bills then I'm gon' stay hustlin' 6 million ways to die, choose one A lot of n***as afraid to die, you won You got all them guns inside, shoot one As the last n***a fall for they life, who won? [Verse 2: Lloyd Banks] Yo f** your interview That lil buzz you got is political I knock your pride out, I'm dumbin' down still, too lyrical You photobombin', awful timin', don't know nobody Hard to keep up with kings, I show a body How it's guided from a shattered stage Bout to make me a money barricade Usually rapping cane, gorgeous bougie b**h that Paris made My j**elry ain't the average grade Tool in my movie got you woozy from my acid phase Bubbly spillin' gla**es raised, hold up n***as have to pay Shotty rip your leg away Sumo when I flat the track Assume I'm comin' back to stack Vroomin' somethin' black on black Room to let my Mac attack Vroomin' out my acrobat Zoomin' in my habitat Two's in my accomplishments Comments full of nonsense But them fools don't want the consequence Bruisin' once my crimes commence Bermuda trips in my defense Sharp as the razor that I use to rip your confidence Your losin' is obvious [Verse 4: Tony Yayo] f** your radio host, f** your rap blog f** your favorite rapper and his big body guard f** the industry man the streets gon' remember me As T-O-N-Y Yayo, I been a G Pull up and these haters gettin' finicky Music loud, rollin' loud, potency can hardly see Splendid, extravagant relaxation I guess that's why these b**h n***as hatin' Got the persona of drug lords Versace slippers, Versace robe Hit Rio in Brazil My life real I got a lot of cliental I'm on that Pusha T sh**, goin' diamond on my cell [Verse 5: Lloyd Banks + Tony Yayo] I'm supposed to chill? Man sh** is real That was my only destination out here in the field The drama cookin' and my partner caught raw deal The people lookin' tryna make it out on four wheels I ain't got no bail, sh** is really real Now it's hots on one cot in the jail Prosecutor tryna k** a n***a for a cell Talkin' football numbers man, sh** is really real