Lirik Lagu Banks Victory - 50 Cent
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[50 Cent]Yo, yo we can't stay alive foreverSo if shit hit the fan then we might as well die togetherI'm high as ever, more holes and more cheddarG-Unit move around wit them pounds and berreta'sYea faggot, if I want it I'm gon' have itRegardless if it's handed to me or I gotta grab itDon't make a ass outta yaself tryin to stop meI'm cocky, raps rocky, nigga you sloppyYou know that I'm, 8 levels above you niggaI'll club you nigga, I never heard of you nigga, ugly niggaI'm the wrong one to provokeYou rattin on niggas is only gon' leave you smokeSo the only thing left now is tools for these cowradsI got no friends, fuck most of these cowardsThey pop shit 'till we start approaching these cowardsWhile we lay around dollars, they lay around flowers
[Lloyd Banks]I got a intergangstress who argue and steams wit reeferAnd who flip when I call a bitch like she Queen LatifahNot all the vehicle's is long enough to stash the streetsweeperThis shit can get uglier than the Master P sneakerWe slidin through the ruckus, wit prada on the chuckusSoon as spring break ho's home from college wanna fuck usI ain't here to drop knowledge on you suckasI'll sick rottweiler's on you fuckas, cops followin to cuff usTop dollars to discuss this, whole lotta zerosWhen it comes to paper I blow a soul outta aeroI'ma break before I lay floor berryBesides, every rapper ain't a star, nigga plad ain't bulbaryYou can't tame Lloyd, smokin by the big screenYou changin the channel looks like I'm playin the game boyI know to watch botherin ya visionYou reach and I'll put a dot on ya head like its part of yo religionWhy party wit a pigeon?I'm blowin a 10 cuz Bush handin flyers for a party in a prisonI'm in the gucci vest wit the green and red strapsI'm the last rapper to scare niggas since Craig MackNow every morning's a fast startAnd there aint problem g
[Lloyd Banks]I got a intergangstress who argue and steams wit reeferAnd who flip when I call a bitch like she Queen LatifahNot all the vehicle's is long enough to stash the streetsweeperThis shit can get uglier than the Master P sneakerWe slidin through the ruckus, wit prada on the chuckusSoon as spring break ho's home from college wanna fuck usI ain't here to drop knowledge on you suckasI'll sick rottweiler's on you fuckas, cops followin to cuff usTop dollars to discuss this, whole lotta zerosWhen it comes to paper I blow a soul outta aeroI'ma break before I lay floor berryBesides, every rapper ain't a star, nigga plad ain't bulbaryYou can't tame Lloyd, smokin by the big screenYou changin the channel looks like I'm playin the game boyI know to watch botherin ya visionYou reach and I'll put a dot on ya head like its part of yo religionWhy party wit a pigeon?I'm blowin a 10 cuz Bush handin flyers for a party in a prisonI'm in the gucci vest wit the green and red strapsI'm the last rapper to scare niggas since Craig MackNow every morning's a fast startAnd there aint problem g
