Lloyd Banks (2017) | Funk Flex | #Freestyle066

Lyrics

[Intro] Uh It's time Yeah, The Gift [Verse] Ugh! 16s of a psychopath On a whole 'nother highway by time the nitro pass Don't get caught by the castle the sucker lights a flash Blood, sweat, and tears to fly, only to cut your lights in half Don't get your license slashed Freestyle imagine my writin' stash The hood need a piece, they'll pull your ice in half Cook in the underground, burn the fuck up by time he drop Duffle bag my ashes and spray my face on a homi' block Addicted to the fast life, losing time on the party clock Media gangsters corny, won't alarm me, fatigue army Glock Light a fire for me, I'll be bombin' right back Surround the White House, gon' have to build a wall around that Hole poked in the heart of Queens, the Colosseum went black Silence for Prodigy... Never repeat that impact! Clipper got a mind of his own, watch how you 'proach that Took my heart out and froze it, choke a rapper with his purse strap Lavender Gucc', grey boots go with the purp' pack Excellence in my worst rap, presidents, get your verse back But it ain't all 'bout the money, features I could get expensive We don't use your entrance Hammers sneak in like Denzel in Fences Drama's a sentence, 'til death do one of us I think I'm obsessed with the victory torches, another rush So talented in my off time, pen the impossible Formed replicas built the League of Shadows Black Ra's Al Ghul, fool Took on the wisdom Pac passed, Martin and Malcolm too Hit the world, broke out my podcast, chronic and rocket fuel Chillin, fresh off my vacation, back for movies Ayo, Flex, it look like I'm left off of "Bad and Boujee?" I been listenin' these niggas out here soundin' average usually I'm conditioned, my pen cooperates, the tablet knew me Pay homage! You a YouTube baby, right? Do your research 'bout me Me! From the land of RIPs, I got a T-shirt hobby Flame out the mothafuckin' turbo, burn the leeches 'round me Lock and key, impostor-free, half of y'all never leave the county Play with the paper, there's metal and plastic for you Exotic bags for torture, smoke a youngin' for my daughter Icy neck still, probably have to bundle up this quarter Who knows, maybe kimuras oral uppercut performers Twisted thoughts in my head, maybe I'm just out of mind Crazier triumph may seem, tell me you seen the decline Any product put out you bringing back, CD on rewind Easing out my peer, beam me out in time, leave me out there, fine Dreamy eyes define, 'ghini out the grind Greedy minds combined, leave me, I've declined Whip the whip, took a dose of winnin' got me tipsy quick Hit the strip, roll myself a 50, roll a 50 clip Hippie shit, old heads hatin', don't be a hypocrite Pop good on a bad day, not a soul out to witness it Hell in the ghetto's air, doubt if you ever felt breeze I was born in the studio, cut me, I bleed in LPs Personalities multiplying, think I feed off emcees Triggered by Hot 9-7, now, double M's my main squeeze Epitomizing grimy, it mixed me out the 90s Blend of all the top tiers from a corner that's droppin bodies Murals on the side of the wall, my high society Any shot you got to being somebody, you rock-a-bye me Wrote a album couple days ago, that shit you lack about me All these medi's got the hood punch-drunk, two-ounce for alkys Lot of shit I'm not understandin', all kind of questions for me Culture lessons, punks need addressin, they out here dressin' funny Shorty on me, bottom 'n chess couldn't get checkers from me Already two albums finessed, that's extra money Lived a life of death experience, how could you humble that? Mob of preemies can't be serious, shit on your mumble rap .40 below, chain swing like a lumberjack Top 5 for fifteen years, who's fucking with that, nigga?