Younglord - Gilmore's lyrics

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