MP3: Lloyd Banks-Cake
Interpret: Lloyd Banks
Skladba: Cake
Album: J. Armz-How To Be An MC Vol. 35
Rok: 2006
Žánr: Instrumental
Délka skladby: 00:01:54
Velikost souboru: 2.67 Mb
Počet stažení: 4
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  Text skladby: Lloyd Banks-Cake
Money, money, money, money Cake I need the cake nigga
The Unit don't play, we rap but we strapped Buck got the shotgun, 50 got the mack Spida got the sweeper and you bound to hear it clap You won't have another birthday cake afta that 'Cause Yayo got a temper and he don't know how to act I've been gone all winter but now a nigga back
To get the money, the money The money, the money, the cake
And you mutha fuckas lookin' like steak Food on the plate for the wolves, follow wolves Don't get moved by the tools Blood will ooze on ya shoes wait, control ya hate
You ain't ridin' in dem 6s 'Cause you spendin' all ya cake on dem bitches I need the bread lil' niggas need Christmas Banks don't rap wit a back pack
I'm in it for the money, the money The money, the money, the cake
You heard Banks said so I know I got the mack I pull up, pull out spray hollows at your back I don't give a fuck, it's goin' down like that I done been through every hood, dead niggas gone rap
In the heart of a victim murda is monumental I don't complicate shit, yeah I keep it simple My bullet wounds will tell you a story 'bout wut I been through Southside trama drama wit' gallamas
I conversate wit' killas, it's usually about life Politicate wit' lawness, it's usually 'bout white I'm da poster child of violence, I'm the boy on the poster When the shots start to rang out I'm the boy wit' the toaster
Yeah, listen up clicko, I hustle I get though You fuckin' wit a sicko, I spazz let a clip go Cannon out da rental, beam to ya temple I squeeze blow your mental, all ova ya friends
Me I'm from the street, where nothin' sweet The home of the hommies, there's a body every week Now I don't hear the sirens but they prolly gonna creep Plottin' to pull me ova, put the cake in my jeep
So I'll be skippin' cities seven states in aweek Can't a mutha fuckin' breathin' tell me I can't eat Show me the money, the money The money, the money, the cake Niggas slow down, pump ya breaks
No mistakes cause the jakes, run the plates Then you headed up state for rollin' 'round wit' a steak Niggas start up the beef and run straight to the cops You a bitch ass nigga, the cupcake of the block Any nigga disrespect the click gettin' shot 'Round here niggas get found upside down
Ova the money, the money The money, the money, the cake
Cake Money, money, money, money Cake
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