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Lloyd Banks

Celebrity

 

Celebrity

(альбом: H.F.M. 2 (The Hunger For More 2) - 2010)


Yeah, hey
Yeah, uh huh, Akon and Lloyd Banks

I just touched down Ferarri to concrete, uh
I ain't even home and they talking bout me (What)
Fuck out my ear if you talking bout free
Nigga free don't pay the bills I'm ballin all out, B
These rappers don't know me, nah I ain't your homey
If your name ain't Em, Ferrari, or Tony
I make my wheel chromey, my Bentley, my Rollie
My Magnum, my Fourty, South Jamaica shorty
These races I took in the gut yo
The roach still here I'm just cooking it up slow
Clear my mind I'm whipping the truck low
My pop dead, but he live through his son though
If rap ain't work, I be pimping on some ho
Still eating lobster and shrimp in the bungalow
I'm back like crack, over the drum roll
You know, wherever I go the gun go

We on the grind, all the time, hey
Ain't 'bout to let a nigga come and snatch mine, hey
I keep a nine, hey; you see the shine, hey
I might let your ass slide this time
While I get this paper, paper
While I get this paper, paper
Cause I'm a celebrity, I don't need none of y'all
Ghetto celebrity keep your punk-ass awards
I'm a celebrity, take your fake smiles off
Ghetto celebrity, ain't nothing changed nigga

The media will test ya popularity, is pressure
Porche or Panoram a platinum hammer through their measure
Wreck a booth up I'm too tough, that inner city grammar
Step your jewels up, they bruised up, I sparkle for the camera
Harsh reality is what's closing and holding the Mac from opening
Verbal attack all over these niggas push the herbs to the back
I'm the kind that they prey on, spending half of they day on
They on niggas for days 'til shots spray on
My sound system knock and it pound 2Pac
Six-four jumping like the ground too hot
The spot near chase a nigga down two blocks
Two shots in the air for niggas that ain't here
Two-tone, two-door, green top, blue floor
Green gwop galore, in and out a new whore
The bright lights you saw, was a paparazzi flash
Trying to snap a picture through your Maserati glass

We on the grind, all the time, hey
Ain't 'bout to let a nigga come and snatch mine, hey
I keep a nine, hey; you see the shine, hey
I might let your ass slide this time
While I get this paper, paper
While I get this paper, paper
Cause I'm a celebrity, I don't need none of y'all
Ghetto celebrity keep your punk-ass awards
I'm a celebrity, take your fake smiles off
Ghetto celebrity, ain't nothing changed nigga

Ain't nothing changed nigga
Ain't nothing changed nigga
Ain't nothing changed nigga
Ain't nothing changed nigga

готово

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