Letra de canción descargada de: https://www.albumcancionyletra.com ------------------------------------------ Lloyd Banks - Just another day ------------------------------------------ [Lloyd Banks] Man what the fuck are you lookin for? Canīt a young nigga make money any more Blow a couple grand in the NBA Store Rock twenty-four thousand on the NBA floor Niggaz be on stage bendin over on tour Leave anti-social with a case of lochjaw Just cause shorty look good, donīt mean that you should go puttin ice on the bitch like she won the Superbowl Even the chips are low, for all these so-called old heads Just ainīt the same niggaz I used to know I got a Houston ho - nah she ainīt the sharpest knife in the drawer but she a damn good booster though See I could fuck a supermodel with my {?} works Send her home with a smile and a couple kids on her shirt I got a year into the game A 141 rocks layin on my chain, geah! [Chorus: Lloyd Banks] Just another day, chillin in the hood Just another day around the way Iīm tipsy off the Hennessy We ridin round with the H-K, nigga we donīt play Just another day, chillin in the hood Just another day around the way We smoke a quarter pound a day G-Unit we here to stay, nigga we donīt play [Lloyd Banks] Nevermind the lames in my era, they all want me dead And I know, itīs all over the way I see bread Here I go, caught up in some he say/she said īTil I go, put a slug in my enemyīs head The Tahoeīs, bulletproof so you canīt get through Then follow, your ass and whoever ran with you And you about as assed-out as two jammed pistols Bleedin around a bunch of niggaz who canīt fix you So bring yours, cause you know I got mine with me kid The 8īll make you lose weight like Missy did The O.G.īs tryin to hide they phony smilin Reputation always arise in Coney Island Iīm at your local newsstand jerk While the only XXL you been in as a shirt And, speakin of shirts, get a new white T God damn it feels good to be me - nigga! [Chorus] [Lloyd Banks] Now Iīm goin, shoppin with a plastic card now Iīm growin, knockin international broads down They know him, theyīre not gonna even pat the star down Iīm holdin, a glock so donīt even act that hard now You might bust your gun but your gatīs in the car clown So break your lilī weed up and crack your cigars down Cause I ainīt tryin to start my visits, with the fuckin judge givin niggaz life like itīs parkin tickets Now I get to go to bed with a model And the crib is bout as big as it is on the Belvedere bottle I got all kind of exī I could ram in they faces Red and blue pills like the man in The Matrix You might have spent some paper on your lilī charm but My piece is bout as heavy as Lilī Jon cup But, itīs never tucked, nigga I donīt give a fuck Iīll get bucked īfore I give somethin up, yup! [Chorus] [ad libs]