Lloyd Banks - Neighborhood Watch lyrics

[Chorus:] It's everbody for theyself! {NON STOP} (blat-blat! blat-blat-blat!) Ain't nobody seen nothin'! Ain't nobody gon' help! Ain't no... [rewind] [Chorus:] It's everbody for theyself! (blat-blat! blat-blat-blat!) Ain't nobody seen nothin'! Ain't nobody gon' help! {BRING IT BACK!} Ain't no... [Chorus:] It's everbody for theyself! (blat-blat! blat-blat-blat!) Ain't nobody seen nothin'! {"COLD CORNER"! } Ain't nobody gon' help! Ain't nobody gon' care! (care!) You need protection for ya body round here, you'll get bodied down here! {LLOYD BANK$!} Yeeah! - I'll see you n***as at the finish line All my n***as gotta eat - and it's dinnertime! We all greedy. - You can't get a bit of shine! (shine...) Let a n***a disrespect the click! And the n***a dyin'! [Verse 1:] Uh! - I'm from where the Vest and Gat meet Lifestyle of a artist - but I smoke like a athlete. DeNiro trackmeet! - Olympic runner timing (uh!) Thru winter crime was climbing and recessions on they mind. If I could hold my own - then what's yo' problem son? Getchu a block, work and hollow gun and stack up 'til the problem come! (whoo!) Goldfish don't last, only the sharks You can swim in a boat - or getcha a** torn apart. (RRRRR!) 2 G'ing 'til the flowers in the casket {Whoooooooooooooooooooooo Kiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiid!} The bu*ton-up shirt. - Shovelin' dirt, and my n***as match it (blat-blat! blat-blat-blat!) With the llama in traffic, Osama the ba*tard! (uh!) Flush him right out his dark hole - and bomb with' the plastic. I'm in and out the store dipped Waitin' on my chick to get paid from her divorce split so she can buy me more sh**. Ready for war sh**! -s Stop-a-bullet wardrobe! The way we on it, it can go down at award shows. (yeah!) [Chorus:] It's everbody for theyself! (blat-blat! blat-blat-blat!) Ain't nobody seen nothin'! Ain't nobody gon' help! Ain't nobody gon' care! (care...) You need protection for ya body round here, you'll get bodied down here! Yeeah! - I'll see you n***as at the finish line All my n***as gotta eat - and it's dinnertime! We all greedy. - You can't get a bit of shine! (shine!) Let a n***a disrespect the click! And the n***a dyin'! [Verse 2:] Ya b**h won't be hearin' ya! (naah!) - When I McLaren her Ride thru ya area - pecan interior. (uh!) Armored exterior. - EQ the stereo These n***as is ants - and I'm an armadillo, so (haa!) Don't compare me to them, them n***as pillow soft Broke, don't even know what a chinchilla cost. (stacks!) You got to hit me, before you hit the boss I ride thru ya hood and floss with the ceiling off. (errr!) I'm swervin'! - Tthese rap n***as perpin'! (blat-blat! blat-blat-blat!) Rich in they videos, f**ed up in person! (uh!) Then talk sideways 'til them K's get to squirtin', Hurtin'! - Soul searchin' - close curtin', (uh!) Yeah! - I'm lane curvin'! - And I ball like Bird and Magic with the ratchet I can cause somethin' tragic! (tragic!) In a dark a** club [kid ovation] or broad day in traffic SouthSide n***a from the womb to the casket. (yeeeeeah!) [Chorus:] It's everbody for theyself! (blat-blat! blat-blat-blat!) Ain't nobody seen nothin'! Ain't nobody gon' help! Ain't nobody gon' care! (care...) You need protection for ya body round here, you'll get bodied down here! [gunshot] Yeeah! - I'll see you n***as at the finish line All my n***as gotta eat - and it's dinnertime! We all greedy. - You can't get a bit of shine! (shine!) Let a n***a disrespect the click! And the n***a dyin'! [Verse 3:] Yeah! - I must be too real - cause n***as fake to us Washed up a** n***as! - Go on scrape ya lust! Dyme filthy is a fate for us, Half gettin' head, half paper lust, a regular day for us. (uh!) Ain't no neighborhood watch! - Watch ya own back My buddy got room for 6, I'll letcha hold that! Shady and ya know that! Ya best bet's not to show ya lady where ya dough at, she'll show that. Feet on ya doormat! Hold that! - Lord sent me a sign Will I fall victim, full clip and an envious mind! (blat-blat! blat-blat-blat!) The white Beamer, Benz and Bentley is mine - billion dollar baby ballin', Putcha bills on the boy - cause Lloyd got em', Crazy! - Sour, hazy baby of the 80's, ladies go Wherever money go. - f** you think I'm gunnin' fo! Rob 'fore my stomach glow. - Everybody wanna blow! Tall, black, hummer low! - b**h-n***as come and go! - SO... [Chorus:] It's everbody for theyself! Ain't nobody seen nothin'! Ain't nobody gon' help! Ain't nobody gon' care! (care...) You need protection for ya body round here, you'll get bodied down here! Yeeah! - I'll see you n***as at the finish line {CAN'T FORGET...} All my n***as gotta eat - and it's dinnertime! {RUDE BWOY! } We all greedy. - You can't get a bit of shine! (shine!) {SHA!} Let a n***a disrespect the click! And the n***a dyin'! [Outro:] S.O.D.! {SAY: HALO WHASUP? } E'ry day is S.O.D.! {"COLD CORNER"...} Boy! - S.O.D.! {THE MIXTAPE! } E'ry day is S.O.D.! {2009! } (blat-blat! blat-blat-blat!) Boy! - S.O.D.! {HUNGER FOR MORE!} E'ry day is S.O.D.! [gunshot] [beat stops]