Lloyd Banks
Work Out Pt 4
[Verse]
Uh
Circle the crib 'cause they follow ya
Jealously's startin' to show the ribs in in Somalia
Cover ya tracks from the pigs 'cause they swallow ya
And ya makin' it easy being a partyer
I'm a survivor even with the 9
A baseball bat, switchblade, a screwdriver
The Llam got a kick back like Rowdy Roddy Piper
I'll put your brains all over your windshield wiper
N***a go and practice, the flow is ferocious
Million dollar face and it's all over posters
We livin' great so we hit the shows and rosters
Know n***as hate so we hit the shows with toasters
[?] them bitches, those is holsters
And we ain't off point 'cause the hoes approach us
But slip up and I'ma steamroll you roaches
I roll with the vultures they eager to pop ya
And give you a reason to believe in ya doctor
Fuck a Bentley, I got the key to the chopper
With zoom in vision, it's easy to spot ya
And yeah I went platinum of my first LP
But it's all off one record so I'm gon' do three
And it's only so long I'ma take the hate
'Fore I DDT yo ass like Jake The Snake
N***as rather see a thug dead
'Cause I love bread
But the ruges'll have ya flyin' like sweat wear
I'm something like the rap Ravishing Rick, I'm that slick
That's why these n***as on my dick
They reaching, want a n***a to respond to 'em
But I'm like "nope"
N***as mad 'cause your broke
You won't be satisfied 'till I get'chu in a yoke
And I keep squeezing 'till you slip into a stroke
Then I dip into the boat
Every bar I wrote sent chills to through your veins like I'm dippin' in a coat
I ride the track harder than pimpin' when your broke
And I lean wit a beat like a fiend on dope
Ya boy been hot before Hammer went broke (Uh-huh)
Tyson was bitin' and Rakim had the rope
I'm chillin' while you act hard
Sippin' lemonade that the maid made from the tree in the backyard
I got my own sneaker, dick, I don't wear those
The entrepren n***a, won't put on their clothes
The industry is filled wit a bunch of weirdos actin' like they don't want diamonds in they earlobes
Shit, what hood you grew up in? 'cause comin' from where I'm from
Motherfuckers want something
My eyes all poky and red 'cause me and Buck like Somkey and Craig, ya learn something if ya open ya head
I don't party unless they pay me
If you want me to preform that's a extra eighty
And ya almost on ya last meal
So I only got three words for you
Straight Outta Ca$hville