Yea, Whoooooooooooooooooo
You n***as know what time it is
Its time for that gangster sh**
[Hook - Lloyd banks]
We ain't got sh** to live for
Your either headed for the pen or your on your way to Gilmore
In the middle of the real war
Cause a five dollar bill is the sh** n***as k** for
I make million out yeah
I don't care about a muthaf**a out there
My heart cold and my wrist rock
You could f** around and die over Hip Hop
[Verse 1 - Lloyd Banks]
I treat a dollar like a mill, counting every bill
Cause if I don't watch mine another muthaf**a will
I went double but I still tuck the steel
I'm the truth, why the f** you think 50 cut the deal
Rollin in a bag of D when you cut the seal
When I bling the paint job on a Coupe De Ville
I ain't never had a pop, poppa never had a son
Nobody to go get, so I ain't never run
They chat behind my back but they quiet when I come
They treat a lil' n***a like a giant with a gun
I walk with a swagger like I always had money
Cause I know, they rather see my black a** bummy
Ain't nothing funny just a whole lot of anger
Mind of a leader, drama of a g**ner
If a n***a come on property I ain't going to call
There'll be a splatter on your shirt, and it ain't paintball
[Hook]
We ain't got sh** to live for
Your either headed for the pen or your on your way to Gilmore
In the middle of the real war
Cause a five dollar bill is the sh** n***as k** for
I make million out yeah
I don't care about a muthaf**a out there
My heart cold and my wrist rock
You could f** around and die over Hip Hop
[Verse 2 - Lloyd Banks]
I don't follow no rules I'm getting in here with the town
And if I don't, we going to burn this muthaf**a down
I'm coming thru swinging like they do in H-Town
And I roll down the window and spin you b**h face around
I'm a stunner, hogging up the lane like the Hummer
Till the wheel run dry like the rain in the summer
Even the broke n***a can't afford to go to sleep
f** around and get you head popped all over the street
And I ain't got nothing for them but the heat
My lil' brother want j**elry and Jordan's on his feet
Now, they recognize if you slaughtering the beat
And if it wasn't for rapping, I'd have your daughter on the street
I been the same since Kane and Slick Rick had it
Now n***as die in the car, my whole whip had it
I worked too hard to let a n***a have it
So I pack the Automatic for the sideline static, Yea
[Hook]
We ain't got sh** to live for
Your either headed for the pen or your on your way to Gilmore
In the middle of the real war
Cause a five dollar bill is the sh** n***as k** for
I make million out yeah
I don't care about a muthaf**a out there
My heart cold and my wrist rock
You could f** around and die over Hip Hop