Lloyd Banks - Land Of Opportunity lyrics

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Lloyd Banks - Land Of Opportunity lyrics

[Intro: Miss Anthropy] Desperate to be found And blood stains all around And my stupid bust thought the lure would be enough You ain't seen nothing yet [Verse 1: Lloyd Banks] I'm always planted, couldn't push me down a hill I double numbers on up-and-comers, you rookies gotta chill Broke a cla**ic of sour power, it whoop me out a mill Life's a b**h and still crowd around, that p**y gotta chill Pack an island on half my talent, your calendar is clear Black medallion, I'm back to stylin', and balancing career n***a, miss me by that argument, left that in my 20s 100s and 50s all I bargain with, still bagging up money, dummy I'm stereo trips, name of your guardian, superior wrist Play me to starve again, canary the fist Raise me a problem, don't compare me to sh** Came from the bottom, bodies there on the strip Brand me a column, probably hear I'mma quit Grammy asylum, bottom tears on my sh** Candy in Harlem, rocking flairs on my whip The profit handle and click, you out here scamming a trick You sneaky deaving, chop your hand you get slick Don't rock your sleepy, drop the bands on your fit [Hook: Lloyd Banks] You getting to it, you don't talk about it When trouble comes there ain't no walk around it Why you think the morgue is crowded? Don't get your body chalk around it How in the land of opportunity when n***as trying to ruin me? Don't make us type your eulogy Cla** in session, pay your student fee They eyeing all your j**elry What your problems got to do with me? You begging, I ain't heard a thing, money hollers usually [Verse 2: Styles P] Yeah, back at 'em with banks Reverse camera on, I back out of the bank No withdrawals, just depositing I ain't get this plug on Twitter, but I'mma follow 'em And what your problems got to do with me? And why the f** you screwing me? I k** 'em then, go on read his eulogy I got beef, I don't talk about it Put the hawk up in 'em, spin 'em and pull the hawk up out 'em Pull the whip on the strip, n***as'll gawk about her Never stick your dick in a chick and b**h'll squawk about it Why these b**hes wanna ruin me? Probably 'cause I'm speaking money fluently And this the land of opportunity I told Banks I get G's by the unit, B All I need is Yayo and there ain't nothing they can do with me [Hook: Lloyd Banks] You getting to it, you don't talk about it When trouble comes there ain't no walk around it Why you think the morgue is crowded? Don't get your body chalk around it How in the land of opportunity when n***as trying to ruin me? Don't make us type your eulogy Cla** in session, pay your student fee They eyeing all your j**elry What your problems got to do with me? You begging, I ain't heard a thing, money hollers usually [Verse 3: Lloyd Banks] Nothing reminds me of the grimy time to call it quits As soon as I fix 'em been off revenge, alcoholic twitch Popular kid when sloppy handing off enormous bricks Invitation the forces miss followed by performance slips A little diesel and California flips The figures transforming, destiny's calling your normal piss Stomping the standards I set, skipping the portal list 20 f**ing years on the set ditching the spoiled b**h Stuck on a new beginning, my f**s in a toolie spinning Wind up with the rule of the willing Die tough when the movie ending Bending these corners with the piece out, you panicking Play with the money, knock 20 teeth off your camera grin Breaking the borders, all the channeling I promised my conscience I'll be the man again And shock you out your ambient And posses died of family when, some pockets size champion Rockabye in panties and the boppers slide their hammers in [Hook: Lloyd Banks] You getting to it, you don't talk about it When trouble comes there ain't no walk around it Why you think the morgue is crowded? Don't get your body chalk around it How in the land of opportunity when n***as trying to ruin me? Don't make us type your eulogy Cla** in session, pay your student fee They eyeing all your j**elry What your problems got to do with me? You begging, I ain't heard a thing, money hollers usually

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