Lloyd Banks – Victory

Lloyd Banks Victory

Lloyd Banks – Victory Lyrics

Artist: Lloyd Banks
Song: Victory

One, one, two
(Non-stop)
Yo, check me out right here yo
Yo, yo we can’t stay alive forever

So if sh#t hit the fan then we might as well die together
I’m high as ever, more holes and more cheddar
G-Unit move around with them pounds and Berettas
Yea faggot, if I want it I’m gon’ have it

Regardless if it’s handed to me or I gotta grab it
Don’t make a #ss outta yaself tryin’ to stop me
I’m cocky, raps rocky, n#gg# you sloppy
You know that I’m, 8 levels above you, n#gg#

I’ll club you n#gg#, I never heard of you, n#gg#, ugly n#gg#
I’m the wrong one to provoke
You rattin’ on n#gg#s is only gon’ leave you smoke
So the only thing left now is tools for these cowards

I got no friends, f#ck most of these cowards
They pop sh#t ’til we start approaching these cowards
While we lay around dollars, they lay around flowers
I got a industry gangstress, that argues, and steams the reefer

And flip when I call her b#tch, like she Queen Latifah
Not all the vehicle’s is long enough to stash the street sweeper
This sh#t can get uglier than the Master P sneaker
We slidin through the ruckus, with Prada on the chuckus

So the spring break hoes home from college wanna f#ck us
I ain’t here to drop knowledge on you suckas
I sic Rottweilers on you f#ckas, cops followin’ to cuff us
Top dollars to discuss this, whole lot of zeros

When it comes to paper, I blow a soul out a hero
I’ma break before I lay floor buried
Besides, every rapper ain’t a star, and every plad ain’t Burberry
You can’t tame Lloyd, smokin’ by the big screen

Changin’ the channel, looks like I’m playin’ the Game Boy
I know the watch botherin’ ya vision
But reach, and I’ll put a dot on ya head like it’s part of your religion
Why party with a pigeon?

I’m blowin’ a 10 ’cause Bush handin’ flyers for a party in a prison
I’m in the Gucci vest, with the green and red straps
I’m the last rapper to scare n#gg#s since Craig Mack
Now every morning’s a fast start

And there ain’t problem gettin’ dressed ’cause my closet got more aisles than Pathmark
Run, move startin’ a wave
Or leave with 12 shells in ya mouth like a carton of eggs
I’m the young pimp pardon my age

I don’t got long hair but if I did she be partin’ my braids
n#gg#s find what club they at
Take ’em with us, and run a train on ’em like a subway map
Your advance is grey Acura

See these record labels got most artists gettin’ f#cked like the gay rapper
I go to college on the tour
I’m goin’ down in history n#gg#, next to Wallace and Shakur
I keep ya ammo clean, text polished in the drawer

Camera’s by the hamper that mine into the floor
By now, you probably heard of me
Fresh outta surgery, flashy as a f#ck, you gon’ have to murder me
Burglary, I’m leavin’ with your Nikes burgundy, white tee: burgundy

You match now, back down
n#gg#s love to hate you, but love you when you disappear
Catch me on the boat with weed smoke and fishin’ gear
Heavy when I toke, C-notes from different years

Bezzy and the rope, remotes and liftin chairs
You ain’t rich, but we glad to snatch ya
I send cars to your crib like I’m a cab dispatcher
You better off with the stupid guys, lookin’ for a coupe to drive

You ain’t gettin nuttin’ but ya French fries supersized
It’s a damn shame y’all still local
I’m in a million dollar studio layin my vocals, n#gg#
Still in the projects n#gg#, you ain’t goin’ nowhere

You gon’ f#ckin’ be there for the rest of your muthaf#ckin’ life
And your momma sayin’: I’m supposed to tell you somethin’
To encourage you, somethin’ positive, aight:
Well, I ain’t gon’ lie to you muthaf#cka, he ain’t goin’ nowhere

Get yourself a beer, and get on the f#ckin’ curb
You f#ckin’ dirt bag
Find more lyrics at https://dcslyrics.com

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Lloyd Banks Lyrics – Victory

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From the album:
Money in the Bank [Explicit]
Release Year: 2018