Lloyd Banks
I Get Around
[Verse 1]
Why you leavin'? Where you goin'? When you comin' back?
Look, you don't pay one bill, you don't need to know all that
Leave it there and don't come back, rounds help or hurt you
You laughin' cause she a square, but you goin' 'round in a circle
So there ain't nothin' to work to, or work for
You're trailin' by a landslide you won't score, when in denial it hurts more
I'm in and out, it's safer, cause that could fuck witcha time
Especially when you 'bout cha paper, and I'm out here on the grind
Never really had that thing that I can call my own
Just a phone book that I can call to bone
All alone, stuck inside of this baller zone
The baddest ones are fallin' now, money is a strong cologne
I prefer Benjamins, Ex's smell the guwap, wanna be friends again
Not to mention I'm hot as the Benz I'm in, tell ya girl to mind her own
The same bitch givin' advice is probably down to bone, and the pussy mileage long

[Chorus]
Ballin', alcohol and still fuckin' em for the fuck of it
Money over everything, doubt if I get enough of it
I ain't the clown, I get around
Makin' love just make the money come slow, I got to go

[Verse 2]
Ringer woke me out my sleep, "Bank's, I'm pregnant"
And I'm like "Bitch you crazy... like I'm the only one you spread ya legs with"
You know I hit the exit, just cause ya life a mess, you want my life to mess with?
You discouraged and depressed, I had the jimmy on extra tight
And not every now and then, either every night, just in case of petty spite
Now that there ain't never right, now that you ain't here, I'm good
Driftin' off my satellite, back to ya spot in the hood
Spoiled rotten ain't good, no dedications
Dumb, watchin' mine like you an accountant, go 'head and make you some
Call me whatchu want baby, just call me after one
Durin' "get it poppin'" hours, maybe we can have some fun
Three-some, we drink, we fuck, we cum, we sleep
Then wake up and make a fuckin' re-run, we're done, there can't only be one
I'm a player, and my mind is on my money, see you 6 months later
[Chorus]
Ballin', alcohol and still fuckin' em for the fuck of it
Money over everything, doubt if I get enough of it
I ain't the clown, I get around
Makin' love just make the money come slow, I got to go