Lloyd Banks - You Already Know (Remix) lyrics

[Intro: Lloyd Banks] Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! [Chorus: Lloyd Banks] You already know, my mind is on my dough A millionaire that won't spend a dollar on a hoe I'm still in here tryin to get a model out the do' High blowin bottle after bottle of that dro Slidin on the road, groupie in my vehicle that I don't even know And If I wasn't Banks shorty probably wouldn't roll From the Benz to the lobby from the lobby to the do' If you ain't with the program ma you gotta go [Verse 1: Lloyd Banks] I move like it's Po' Po' behind me, cocoa inside me, so cold and grimey Fo' Fo' beside me, hoes know to find me Wherever there's money, yeah I'm the sh** honey (WOO!!!) Hood n***a with the rubberband grip money If I go broke I make you and your man strip dummy Yeah n***a, you don't want it with them their bigger Cross us, your on somethin we bare n***as Yeah n***a here trigga teflon chest gone G's up Freeze up and you'll end up in your lawn It's the protege of 50, inspired by Biggie Burns more than Ziggy, them lil' n***as dig me I been stressed out lately, so I'm smokin more than ever Dead smack in the hood good pokin out my leather I'm a Good Fella, in a G-Unit hood sweater If your b**h give me a sign I'm a get her [Chorus: Lloyd Banks] You already know, my mind is on my dough A millionaire that won't spend a dollar on a hoe I'm still in here tryin to get a model out the do' High blowin bottle after bottle of that dro Slidin on the road, groupie in my vehicle that I don't even know And If I wasn't Banks shorty probably wouldn't roll From the Benz to the lobby from the lobby to the do' If you ain't with the program ma you gotta go [Verse 2: Lloyd Banks] Uh! I'm fresh in my two thousand six whip Cool down with a sick brick fool 'round and get hit Move down the strip quick, two pounds of drip drip Smokin like it's legal, me and my desert eagle (WOO!!!) All the hoes eyein whem the whip come by flyin Got a Hustler's Ambition to Get Rich Or Die Tryin And that other guy is lyin he just lookin he ain't buyin He ain't flyin he ain't cakin everybody know he fakin I should let the hood bake him but I take him right to Satan Just for hatin leave him straight and run him over with a Dayton And burn rubber like the back tires on the leer Sapphires In my ear, yeah that's why they stare Yeah that's why they glare, I'm icy as it gets With a white tee and a six, a new wifey in The Ritz If it's junk get her drunk I pull over and roll a blunt And I shouldn't have to tell her what I want (Why) [Chorus: Lloyd Banks] You already know, my mind is on my dough A millionaire that won't spend a dollar on a hoe I'm still in here tryin to get a model out the do' High blowin bottle after bottle of that dro Slidin on the road, groupie in my vehicle that I don't even know And If I wasn't Banks shorty probably wouldn't roll From the Benz to the lobby from the lobby to the do' If you ain't with the program ma you gotta go