Lloyd Banks
8 Minutes Of Death
Now first of all keep my name off record
I'm internationally known, lyrically respected
Cars I 23 'em and armor all the tires up
And keep a long line of hoes like fire trucks
It's just the broke rapper's talkin' all loud
But I throw what you make at your show at my crowd
There'll be ashes to ashes and dust to dust
The moment we bump heads n***a fuck the cuffs
When I'm tourin' the smarter hoes rush the bus
And get a attitude, cause I'm in a rush to bust
Cause think about it, I've been the only one that I can trust
Since I had to use shoe polish to covеr up the scuffs
I climbed up from the bottom thats why thеy on my nuts
And they all got boyfriends, that's why they on the hush
Plus I'm hotter then most, that's why they mouths droppin'
And I ain't just out coppin' I'm house shoppin'
Hahaha Yeah!

Aye you're either a full blown sicko, senile or stupid
To run up on me with the blicky and don't use it
Watch as I express murder through music
I've been around a while now, heard a few lose it
Banks make the money, money don't make me
We been together like 8 Ball and MJG
Like Stockton and Malone, Chrome and Tombstone
Norega & Capone, or a hater on the phone
It ain't a close call or a tie at all, I'm about a mile away
You're nobody, you can die today
I'm MJ, fuck what you're man say
I got a new cannon that's hologram gray
Hey, I can do this all day, got my uniform on high off the cron cron
It used to be competition, now they all gone
Caught up in the crossfire throwin' up they palm-palms
You don't wanna wired jaw, that'll zip your lip
Cause we can all get down, go grip for grip
You're better off drivin' drunk, flip yo wip
He ain't shit, ain't nobody gonna miss the prick
Man everything gonna stop when your man drop
They fuckin' with BANKS, been from southside jamaica to jamrock
And I be over seas for the G's and I'm gettin' it
I don't smoke weed with the seeds and the sticks in it
I'm the reason your dough goin' thin
Cause ya'll in the way, when I see n***a's I see bowlin' pins
You can call me Mr. Do It First, oh you like that? I got that just to do a verse
And I stack cause I'm after the bread
I got a G for every bump on your face and every nap on your head
I be set for a week while I'm back from the dread
With a brown bag fluffy as a package of bread
HAHAHA
What I'm doin'? Nothin', chillin' at the Holiday Inn
With a bottle of Jin, and the model's a 10
I ain't worried about the kid's ma' swallowin' them
Another victim to my matol again
You're fallin' off, and I will not follow a trend
Go call your boss, I put a hot hollow in him
I never lost, I'm cooler then Chicago's wind
Butter's soft in the Benz and the 9 hold 10
As time keep's tickin', I'm Chevrolet dippin'
Navy blue swede seats with the grey strip in
It's plain to see, you can't change me
Cause I'm a be a n***a for life, flyin' figures in ice
I bet the price on the fling of the dice
Shorty with me, we slingin' a pipe
Chrome thing on right, one on the wip, it'll ring on your top
And I be five thousand miles from the block man

Aye, you talk like you're rich but really ain't got a home
And been in everybodies video but your own
New York is the sound, clown I walk with a pound
Now the talk of the town real as the chalk in the ground
You ain't nothin' but a duplicate followin' the ruler
Chain, watch, and ring, you borrowed from the jeweler
You had to see the chain, scene swallowed before I knew it
Don't trip that'll get ya hit hard in your madolah
I ain't really for the talk, n***a argue with the rugger
Have yourself a drink roll a bottle with a budda
I'm the last one to run, the first one to come
Shit your boy smooth as the verse when I'm done
I used to say I wouldn't amount to nothin'
Even my momma ain't know she had a star since the oven, cousin'
You gotta love him the kid's gettin' his dollars man
I've been a part of God's plan since the sonogram
Yo who else but blue could do what he do?
The n***a's he ran the street was the crew that he flew
I embrace the new jack assuming he's true
But he was soft as a cloth so I auctioned him off, man
That ain't no way to talk to a boss, fuck a middle man, bring the hawk to the source
I'm ballin' from the heliport to the porche
With my dominican bitch that walks like a horse
When I floss, it's hard for anybody to come off
I ain't a come up, you need karate or the torch
N***a's hate it, now they feelin' sorry on they porch
Cause I made it, I don't let the Ferari on the courts
That ain't really a run compared to shit we done
The crib got more land then Area 51
You take one of mine your whole family get to run
I ain't Diesel, but they scarred of me with a gun, I'm the one

Aye writing for malotti's thats what you gotta chew
The stadiums jammed back but they ain't checkin' for you
Man this is for the n***a's that's boxed up
For throwin' the blocks up and couldn't shake jake when they popped up
The media be killin' my vibe but I'm ghetto like the paper that you hang from the ceiling to get the fire stuck
I got a pool and I can't swim, It's like I sleep over and can't bend
Then I'm on a plane, money, clothes, and hoes, I get it all the same
I take rolls of those and sit 'em in a chain
Some rose and froze, they bitter and ashamed
Come on, I ain't your regular n***a in the game, I'm on
I'm a pimp soldier, mid rover, pants off my ass, hat tilt over
The same in the winter, blade under the skully
I'm hotter then the phone booth outside of the deli
You're now in the presents of a damn don
And a gorgeous wip, sittin' on 24's with a 4 inch lip, prick
This ain't nothin' like the movies fam, ya hear uzi blam, I'm so icey, Gucci man
I got my hand on that fith when I'm rollin' slow
Cause I stand out like shit in the snow ya know
I'm ridin' around in the city with the top down
Neck full of eye candy, yellow rocks round
I bet you if I wanna I'm a get her
Lay her down and hit her with a good Lord splitter
Banks ain't the n***a to fool with, I'll have 'em outlinin' ya
With the blue shit from the pool stick
You thinkin' about clappin' me you better
I catch ya and cut ya, your scar will look like a japanese letter
Listen to my shit, your raps will be better
I'm a stunna, put granny in a half a eat sweater
I'm hungry as the last verse, I sleep third
Bullshit second, and get the cash first
Pop the champagne, let the weed on the bus blow
Mixtape monster, R.I.P. to Justo
Now we got the game on smash, the real n***a's respect us
The rest well, they all ass
Don't none of them sell records cause they all trash
And they all weak, you motherfuckers better off sleep
You're beat by a long shot, the young boy from a strong block
Ya'll done pushed over the wrong rock
Spend your money on me, I make the song hott
The crime rise and your baby momma's draws drop
My chain big like my buzz in the city
But when I wasn't a rapper life wasn't as pretty
I got a chick and a chip on my shoulder
A zip of da doljah, hood wip and a rover, a Soldier

I'm one of the realest n***a's that did it
Anything you ever heard me on I shitted
I spread the flow to the masses and he bit it
Got a tear drop, a ghetto pass, and ran with it
I know a couple of n***as that would love to fry his hat
Put a Butterfly Blade on his Butterfly Tat
You know me lowkey, rubber side strap
Fuck with me if you wanna it will be one hell of a summer
Game was a G-unit groupie, they made a flick about bitchass n***a's he be in a movie
I'm in a beach house palm tree and ja'causei
Bad bitch me and a smoothie
Now all I got is heat and tough talk for you
Pepper spray your fuckin' eye balls just for you
I'm feelin' like I'm gonna lose my cool, sooner or later
All over a hater, ain't no man more important then paper