Lloyd Banks - 1, 2, 3 Grind - Tekst piosenki, lyrics - teksciki.pl

19.08.2012

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Rap

Tekst piosenki
[Verse 1: Lloyd Banks] Wordplay in the worst way Earthquake, niggas is shook, ash in my purp tray 20′s on Benz day, Lincoln on Thursday Highday, full fever leaving off the driveway Cheeba got my mind grey, diva bottle entree Cooler than a cooler, armed like a padre Ya baby momma dream about the God I let her hit the button fingers startin up the car Style when I sleep, slicker when I hit the street Greens pillin' up, body builder when I lift the beat My weed sour my bitches sweet Marine style but my shit discrete Watch me make the flip repeat I don't trick or treat, but so halloween Michael myers with the fire trip holla scream I gotta lotta cream, and a solid team It's like I'm playin solitare I don't see a challenge here, yeaaah [Hook] Money movin on the dime Ready 1…2…3 grind Niggas better give me mine About my funds, top down Ready for the shine Gettin to it so inline I'm influenced by the gold I do it if I tried I'mma get 'em every time Ready 1…2…3…grind! [Verse 2: Prodigy] You know there's rules that you following And tools get the hollow point Poppin' at these fools These dudes get their narrow ass deceased I terminate, unleash the purly gate Put that work in than I spin like a 38 All around the world, back around the world twice Fucking with the internash infamous paradigm Catch your bitch on the line at the concert I'm gonna take advantage of this opportunity time I'm the worst of the worst, vultures Come on slime, you ain't never in your life never life like mine This is grand theft audio, you just a petty crime In my parade of hits, get confetti on my shine You soft like spaghetti, I'm harder than a whale dick Clap a nigga real quick, falling outta line like 1 2 3 they will be dropping like Dominoes, vamonos I show you how to die, it's career suicide must be on that crack high Coming at me diagonally, the fuck you on your mind fuck be on you niggas brains It seems you wish death Yo blow, these niggas playin' games ready for flesh [Hook] Money movin on the dime Ready 1…2…3 grind Niggas better give me mine About my funds, top down Ready for the shine Gettin to it so inline I'm influenced by the gold I do it if I tried I'mma get 'em every time Ready 1…2…3…grind! [Verse 3: Lloyd Banks] Big chain photo, still beaming when you see me HFM in 3D, hood beemer bump my CD I'mma a creep, do some foul shit every week Fuck my shawty sister, left her lipstick all in my sheets Stay low I'm on that numb shit, hit and bounce shit I'm looking for a minaj they looking for a sponsor Opposite of bubblegum rap, I chew the track All 4 of my pockets fat, Like New York city rat Brighter than my jewelery I'm in line with the stars I'm from Mars, I'm bad stacking Domino broads Living large, you gon need 500 bars When we drive, make bouji bitches climb in the cars Wheels spin the street off, Porsche peel with the feet off The haters still hating it ain't hard to tell that he lost In need of defrost, brick ? this shit old Play with me get hospitaled or wife widowed [Hook] Money movin on the dime Ready 1…2…3 grind Niggas better give me mine About my funds, top down Ready for the shine Gettin to it so inline I'm influenced by the gold I do it if I tried I'mma get 'em every time Ready 1…2…3…grind!
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