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Lloyd Banks - Playboy lyrics
[Intro - DJ Whoo Kid] Aw man, can I get a raw please Y'all ready, for the main event... DAMN, LLOYD, BANKS [Verse 1 - Lloyd Banks] Guess who's the man this winter, straight out the land of sinners The ranger's tan wit spinners, check out the white wheels Roll wit the damn winners, or you and your man's finished You and your ram's fitteds, turn off the light switch Holdin my torch down, even when the force 'round You let your wife roam, she want a divorce now You niggaz ain't this gully, playin to paint ya skully You'll never take this from me, the riders and all the gangstas from me You shouldnt be a problem, I ain't be a problem See ya later I read your head, you be a rodman I know your type, hoppin all over the beach screamin You call it hypin yourself up, I call it street dreamin I do it for all of the haters, the playas roll wit the gators They lookin foward to favors, gossip is all they gave us You niggaz wasn't quiet, meet the whales and the fishes You lit the precinct up, playin tattle-tail wit the snitches Even my momma knows, I got all kinda hoes They wait outside the shows, stripped after the diner close Out their designer clothes, without the winer rules Take off my baby blue mink, and carolina boots C'mere, take a look inside an entertainer's closet I never trust a bitch, I blame Lorainna Bobbit Niggaz stay and pocket, I know you mad at me But shit ain't peaches 'n' cream, and I ain't Sarah Lee bitch [Chorus] Don't ice me, you starin at the wrong one There's alot of girls here, go and get up on one We at the bar poppin, bottles till they all gone If you aint leavin here wit us, you can walk home Cause someone else will, they know how we ride If you a playboy, you got one on each side Keep your mouth closed, we don't let the beef ride Ride... ride... ride DAMN, LET'S GO (Verse 2) I do this for the hood, niggaz stuck in the slammer I smile cause I'm good, you act tough for the camera Where I'm from the little kids, they fuckin wit santa Cause they like 2Pac more, word?, word to my grandma I figure I might as well leave here wit my glock drawn Cause they'll take you to jail even when you're not wrong Dawg you're not this flashy, but you got to blast me Every rock is classy, nobody on your block can match me You shouldn't want a fight, unless you wanna fight For your life in a hospital 100 nights I know your type, run behind your girlfriend rushin You call it quality time, I call it handcuffin I'm on the beach of miami, cellular reachin my family All weekend wit panties, from Puerto Rican candy You niggaz wasn't tough, I shoulda snapped some flicks You wore your pants tight, play pitty-pat wit the chicks Even my father knows, where the revolver goes I bring the beef to your front door like dominoes And my diamonds froze, that means my time froze We in the club from when its poppin, till when the time its closed Half of these so-called real niggaz can hardly sing Naw I ain't pullin over, learnt that from Rodney King So tell your homey chill, you know I hold it still Everything ain't jabs and hooks, and you ain't holyfield nigga [Chorus] Don't ice me, you starin at the wrong one There's alot of girls here, go and get up on one We at the bar poppin, bottles till they all gone If you aint leavin here wit us, you can walk home Cause someone else will, they know how we ride If you a playboy, you got one on each side Keep your mouth closed, we don't let the beef ride [Outro] Everybody on the left get your hands up Everybody on the right get your hands up Everybody up front get your hands up And everybody out back get your hands up And if you in here wit a strap get your hands up NOW PUT 'EM UP, PUT 'EM UP What? Man fuck what he said NOW PUT 'EM UP, PUT 'EM UP |
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