Victory

Lloyd Banks

[50 Cent]

Yo, yo we can't stay alive forever

So if shit hit the fan then we might as well die together

I'm high as ever, more holes and more cheddar

G-Unit move around wit them pounds and berreta's

Yea faggot, if I want it I'm gon' have it

Regardless if it's handed to me or I gotta grab it

Don't make a ass outta yaself tryin to stop me

I'm cocky, raps rocky, nigga you sloppy

You know that I'm, 8 levels above you nigga

I'll club you nigga, I never heard of you nigga, ugly nigga

I'm the wrong one to provoke

You rattin on niggas is only gon' leave you smoke

So the only thing left now is tools for these cowrads

I got no friends, fuck most of these cowards

They pop shit 'till we start approaching these cowards

While we lay around dollars, they lay around flowers



[Lloyd Banks]

I got a intergangstress who argue and steams wit reefer

And who flip when I call a bitch like she Queen Latifah

Not all the vehicle's is long enough to stash the streetsweeper

This shit can get uglier than the Master P sneaker

We slidin through the ruckus, wit prada on the chuckus

Soon as spring break ho's home from college wanna fuck us

I ain't here to drop knowledge on you suckas

I'll sick rottweiler's on you fuckas, cops followin to cuff us

Top dollars to discuss this, whole lotta zeros

When it comes to paper I blow a soul outta aero

I'ma break before I lay floor berry

Besides, every rapper ain't a star, nigga plad ain't bulbary

You can't tame Lloyd, smokin by the big screen

You changin the channel looks like I'm playin the game boy

I know to watch botherin ya vision

You reach and I'll put a dot on ya head like its part of yo religion

Why party wit a pigeon?

I'm blowin a 10 cuz Bush handin flyers for a party in a prison

I'm in the gucci vest wit the green and red straps

I'm the last rapper to scare niggas since Craig Mack

Now every morning's a fast start

And there aint problem get