Testo Drop 5 - Lloyd Banks
Testo della canzone Drop 5 (Lloyd Banks), tratta dall'album The Course of the Inevitable
Uh
Keep talking that talk till we catch you out there and tint your lids
I put all my focus on a new way to ballons the kids
There ain't enough accolades to cover the shit we did
A grown up had shrouded me on the neck, but I'm disinterested
When it comes to rated R shit, I'm double and back like Mr. Big
Worry 'bout family ties 'cause my cousin'll smack you with the SIG
Stumbling backwards, split yo' wig, humbling bastards, fist the jig
Can't even know who the fuck you are, let alone what your business is
Party stairs and Cartier glares, ricochet shots and break spears
My sons' is dissing me, mad as hell when a car seat takes stairs
I trump these niggas, eight tiers
Apply the pressure, shake peers
Faced on my fears, seeing my nickname on the marquee, great years
Ears to the slower life, two to three kids, a home, a wife
Stabled in, if I roll the dice, grounded, growing, it's cultured, ice
Living in danger most my life, could've just stopped, I chose my vice
Putting this work to make sure I'm buried in ice
You cross the line, my nigga, none of that shit will be forgiven
Take opinions wit' ya, don't ever question how we livin'
Know it's to the dead, and all of my niggas in the prison
This is infrared, right on the target, take it in lead
I need my kids to live fly, I'm not just trying to get by
You violate, meet your fate, me and this nine on my side
Nobody's hot and whenever you come around, we outside
Let a nigga take one of ours, it's only right we drop five
Uh
The name will always hold weight, I'll leave it to little Chris
You bitch, I'm killing this for you, diss me, do your due diligence
Industry playing experiments, damn I wish you were still a fan
Started for 20 years, on the average they out the bench
Calling you find the realest stinge, I've been the shit
I'm still convinced, my penmanship, dismember shit
I've been feeding this game since I entered it
Back, since you mentioned it, wondering where the tension went
Niggas fucking up the draft class, magazine full of trash bags
Smoking and drinking till it made me ill, praying for God to take the wheel
My rhyme is exceptional, so my neighbors chill
Be cool your honor, I'm moving commas, excuse your partner
A true provider, in blue Gabbana, the coupe's designer
My pools piranha, I lose the drama in Punta Cana
There's never a question on who's the rider, remove the timer
Life is a bitch, will makes excuses out her, persevere
Piece of cake when your purposes clear
Second time I've been cursed this year
You cross the line, my nigga, none of that shit will be forgiven
Take opinions wit' ya, don't ever question how we livin'
Know it's to the dead, and all of my niggas in the prison
This is infrared, right on the target, take it in lead
I need my kids to live fly, I'm not just trying to get by
You violate, meet your fate, me and this nine on my side
Nobody's hot and whenever you come around, we outside
Let a nigga take one of ours, it's only right we drop five
Credits
Writer(s): Unknown Writer, Kevin Charles
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