Lloyd Banks - Home Sweet Home lyrics

Yeah, twenty miles an hour in my long Bentley Shame on you hater, this what the Lord sent me Lately I've been practicing my gas face Cause that's what I'm a give em when they land in last place Hand right by the... they ain't too many seeing us So they wanna take my gifts But I wrap em with the [?] My regular [?] Currency and cashmere You drove [?] your way, I told her she can crash here Yeah I'm counting paper like the cashier Living like I'm limited, breathing like it's my last air My boy in and out the box, super stupid soldier Told me if he could do it again he'd do it over Poverty's king cobra, squeeze ya life out Cause it's the fatalities and casualties I should write 'bout These rappers ain't iced out, they just fooling Running round town fakers, zirconian cubic [Chorus] Only money matters in the game, f** the fame I gotta eat dollar signs, feed my hunger pain Music like Heroin, leave you numb the same Play me like I'm something sweet Be apart of summer slayin' Most hate it most doubt it That's what they shout it I'm on top now, there's nothing they can do about it Ya'll better have ya'll guns out Cause where I'm from, there ain't no way around it Home sweet home I'm a f**ing rap til you blue in the face You'll probably turn into smurfs with the time that you waste Throughout history they throwing shots at the greats But I shoot back, the Lord ain't designed me for hate I've never understood Martin Luther with the speech With the whole World watching me, turn the other cheek? Never, so there's one left to die in the streets Cause his long arms happens to connect with his reach Try to k** you then, them near misses was God's kisses True Hollywood story, ghetto tie bridges Different strokes that n***as broke the [?] reach You only read about the cars that I paddle shift You only dream about the [?] that I dabble with Balcony views, postcard, imagine this White stones, black steel cold chrome This city's my doormat, them home sweet home [Chorus] See me where you see me Always seen Off the Queens magazines, pissy hallway scenes Paying crowds, hunger screams, pressure crumbles teams f** being humble in the jungle where they fumble dreams Drugs for the living, Henny [?] for the body Crosses for the power, ghetto for the smiley Pitbull, I bit my way out the cage, what's happening Competition got me on the Rampage, Jackson Part of my reaction to they corny a** raps Keep flirting with d**h and get your horny a** clapped Back for more me, rat tat, kiss the ring, beat respect out them Bloody heads, turn Timbalands to red bottoms Fifty bottles just a start now that's how they do it Carbon fiber through the Spyder playin' rider music Ain't no question of my resume, I gotta prove it Life's a b**ha need I get [?] [Chorus]