Lloyd Banks - Work Out Part 3 lyrics

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Lloyd Banks - Work Out Part 3 lyrics

[gun co*ks] [scratches] [Verse: {Whoo Kid}] Uh! - Circle the crib cause they follow ya (yeah!) Jealousy's startin to show like the ribs in Somalia. Cover ya tracks or the pigs will sawllow ya And m, ake it easier being a part of ya. {Whoooooooooooooooooo Kiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiid!} I'm a survivor! - Even with the .9! [2 gun co*ks] The baseball bat, switchblade or screwdiver. The Llam' got a kick like Rowdy Rowdy Piper I put ya brain all over ya windshield wiper. n***a go practice, the flow is ferocious Million dollar face and it's all over posters! We living great so we hit the shows and roasters Them n***as hate so we hit the show with toasters. [gunshot] {DAMN} Project b**hes! - Those is holsters We ain't off point cause hoes approach us. Slip up and I'm a steamroast you roaches. I roll with the vultures they eager to pop ya. [gunshot] I give you a reason to believe in ya doctor! f** a Bentley! I got a key to the chopper With zoom in vision. - It's easy to spot ya! {DAMN} And yeah, I went Platinum off my first LP! But it's all off one record so I'm gon' do three. There's only so long I'm gon take the hate Before I DDT ya a** like Jake the Snake. {Whooooooooooooooo Kiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiid!} n***a rather see a thug dead - cause I love bread! The Uzi'll have you flyin like Spud Webb. I'm something like the rap-ravishing Rick, I'm that slick! - That's why all these n***as on my dick! {HAHA!} ? reach and response to them, But I'm like: "Nope! " You just mad because you broke. You won't be satisfied 'til I get you in the yoke And I keep squeezing - 'til you slipping in a stroke. {DAMN!} Then I'm Dipping in a boat - and every bar I wrote Sent chills through ya veins like I'm dipping in the coke. [blast] I ride the track harder than Pippen when you broke I lean on the beat like a fiend on dope. The boy been hot before Hammer went broke, (uh-huh!) Tyson was bitting and Rakim had the rope. I'm chilling while you act hard. Sipping on lemonade that the maid made from the tree in the backyard! {Whooooooooo!} I got my own sneaker, dick! - I don't wear those! The entrepre-n***a - won't put on their clothes. {HAHA!} The industry's filled with a bunch of weird-o's Actin like they don't want diamonds in their earlobe. {SHADYVILLE!} So what hood you grew up in? Cause comin' where I'm frooom. - Motherf**as want something! My eyes all poky and red, cause me and Buck like Smoky and Craig You learn something if you open up ya head. {Whooooooo!} I don't party unless they pay me You want me to perform that's an extra 80. You almost on your last meal, So I got three words for you: - "Straight Outta Ca$hville"! [blast] [beat stops]