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Lloyd Banks

Who Shot Ya Freestyle (from "SWAT : Global Mixtape Strike Team" mixtape)

 

Who Shot Ya Freestyle (from "SWAT : Global Mixtape Strike Team" mixtape)


Don't talk shit to the stars bro
I'll have more niggas leaning over your weight than a car show
They bust you down like a Marlboro
And I'm excited to see where your knee and ya arm go
You don't want to know how much this cost
Nigga I'm balling my dick been through every color lip gloss
Around here that snitching get niggas pissed off
That nigga front in the club he getting hip tossed
We ride around everybody in the bricks saw us
And them record execs pull out a grip for us

Yo what up? this is Big Snoop Dogg
The Big Snoopy DO Double Gizzle
For shizzle dizzle
Telling you to get the SWA tizzle
SWAT motherfuckers

Don't talk shit to the stars bro
I'll have more niggas leaning over your weight than a car show
They bust you down like a Marlboro
And I'm excited to see where your knee and ya arm go
You don't want to know how much this cost
Nigga I'm balling my dick been through every color lip gloss
Around here that snitching get niggas pissed off
That nigga front in the club he getting hip tossed
We ride around everybody in the bricks saw us
And them record execs pull out a grip for us
I'm the shit boss
And on top of that you can expect me to win like a New York Knick boss
You acting like you want to lay where your mom stay
I'll put red dots on you like Kwame'
I'm blowing Bomb Bay
Cause it always pays off to make ya important decisions the calm way
My hood bitch'll get you set up god
Cause her milkshake brings all the boys to the yard
You can't even get a show Lloyds on his job
Jet Black tints on the 'Voy and the 'Sage
Take a look at this enormous garage
If you listen you can hear the noise of manage
Shit I'm royalty like Bin Laden
You been lying
I got Siamese Glocks
You gon burn 'till the boy gets rid of ya
You'll be a ghost dog like Forest Whitaker
Whoever thought they'd be asking for his signature
And tourists visit ya
For all this literature
Shit we ain't the cats from the movies we overlooked
I'll put a cast on your ass like a broken foot
You can't teach me how to stunt nigga I wrote the book
A gourmet maids on the payroll to cook
And if I'm traveling off land the boat is took
Cruising slow so all the old folk can look
These little niggas is so so, I'm so good
I got the crowd in a choke hold in your hood
Quarter pounding a low low the pro should
Ya sales moving slow mo ya go wood
You want to see me handcuffed in the slammer
Looking that tough in the camera
My suppliers married to a real Rasta
All I got to do is hit her with the Kyllvassa
No candles or chilled lobster
Its a flat screen, a little BET
Throw on a DVD
Then its brain on my BED
I pass her off to my nigga

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