Letra de canción descargada de: https://www.albumcancionyletra.com ------------------------------------------ 50 Cent - Banks victory ------------------------------------------ [50 Cent] Yo, yo we canīt stay alive forever So if shit hit the fan then we might as well die together Iīm high as ever, more holes and more cheddar G-Unit move around wit them pounds and berretaīs Yea faggot, if I want it Iīm gonī have it Regardless if itīs handed to me or I gotta grab it Donīt make a ass outta yaself tryin to stop me Iīm cocky, raps rocky, nigga you sloppy You know that Iīm, 8 levels above you nigga Iīll club you nigga, I never heard of you nigga, ugly nigga Iīm the wrong one to provoke You rattin on niggas is only gonī leave you smoke So the only thing left now is tools for these cowrads I got no friends, fuck most of these cowards They pop shit ītill we start approaching these cowards While we lay around dollars, they lay around flowers [Lloyd Banks] I got a intergangstress who argue and steams wit reefer And who flip when I call a bitch like she Queen Latifah Not all the vehicleīs is long enough to stash the streetsweeper This shit can get uglier than the Master P sneaker We slidin through the ruckus, wit prada on the chuckus Soon as spring break hoīs home from college wanna fuck us I ainīt here to drop knowledge on you suckas Iīll sick rottweilerīs on you fuckas, cops followin to cuff us Top dollars to discuss this, whole lotta zeros When it comes to paper I blow a soul outta aero Iīma break before I lay floor berry Besides, every rapper ainīt a star, nigga plad ainīt bulbary You canīt tame Lloyd, smokin by the big screen You changin the channel looks like Iīm playin the game boy I know to watch botherin ya vision You reach and Iīll put a dot on ya head like its part of yo religion Why party wit a pigeon? Iīm blowin a 10 cuz Bush handin flyers for a party in a prison Iīm in the gucci vest wit the green and red straps Iīm the last rapper to scare niggas since Craig Mack Now every morningīs a fast start And there aint problem gettin dressed cuz my closet got more aisles than pathmark Run, move startin a wave and leave wit 12 shells in ya mouth like a carton of eggs Iīm the young pimp pardon my age I donīt got long hair but if I did she be puttin my braids Niggas find what club they at take īem wit us, and run a train on īem like a subway mac get advances from grey agra see these record labels got most artists gettin fucked like the gay rappaī i go the college on the tour Iīm goin down in history nigga, next to Wallace and Shakur I keep ya ammo clean, text polished in the drawer Cameraīs by the hamper that mine into the floor by now, you probably heard of me fresh outta surgery, flashy as a fuck, you gonī have to murder me Burglary, Iīm leavin wit cha nikeīs bergendy, White T, bergendy you match now, back down niggas love to hate you, but love you when you disappear catch me on the boat wit weed smoke and fishinī gear heavy when I toke, C notes from different years Besly in the robe, re-motes for liftin chairs You ainīt rich, but we glad to snatch ya I send cars to crib like Iīm a cab dispatcha you better off wit ya stupid guys, lookin for a coupe to drive you ainīt gettin nuttin but ya french fries supersized itīs a damn shame yīall still local Iīm in a million dollar studio layin my vocals Nigga [50 Cent] Still in the projects nigga, you ainīt goin nowhere you gonī fuckin be there for the rest of yo muthafuckin life and yo momma said, Iīm supposed to tell you somethin..... to encourage you, somethin positive aight well I ainīt gonī lie to you muthafucka, he ainīt goin nowhere get yaself a beer, get on the fuckin curve fuckin dirtbag