50 Cent - Banks Workout Pt. 2 Lyrics
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    Banks Workout Pt. 2

    [50 Cent]
    50 Cent; Lloyd Banks!

    [Intro: 50 Cent]
    Nobody get hurt if nobody don't move
    Just give it up smooth (G-UNIT~!)
    Motherfucker you move I'll flash my tool
    And blast my tool (G-UNIT~!)
    Nigga you don't know me, and I don't know you
    You think you know my crew (G-UNIT~!)

    [Lloyd Banks]
    I been a problem since the old days, pimps and gold caps
    Now I'm in O.J. Simpson throwbacks
    Y'all was wonderin where my ass been
    Probably vacationin on South Beach gettin head like an aspirin
    If you gassed, I can let the tec pound your ego
    Or lock you in a closet with the West Nile mosquito
    The press crowd in people, especially celebrities
    I'm heavily shittin on any Tom Dick or Gregory
    Nigga you better be strappin; they want you dead if you rappin
    I'm tryin to cave your head and your back in
    I'm gettin bread and relaxin, and attractin a fan base
    Of females with e-mails and letters to fax in
    In Vegas with a toaster and a blunt
    And the hotel I'm checked in, got a rollercoaster in the front
    I'mma post 'em when I stunt, the Sammy Sosa of the month
    Better yet the whole season, nigga I'm still breathin
    Even though my dollars are green
    I rap for the kids that's too poor to waste eggs on Halloween
    I'm gettin swallowed clean, my habits are good
    Collectin all the karats I could
    Slidin from a stash spot to conceal the torture
    And a good silencer to make it sound like the Wheel of Fortune
    All this careless talkin, cause I'm travelin and flossin
    Havin a good time, and you havin a abortion
    You sucker for love, gettin married and get divorced then
    Can't even afford the batteries for your Walkman
    I'm out the hood, burnin Cali weed on Slausson
    Where set trippin turn to tragedies and coffins
    Look, I mean what I'm sayin, you schemin I'm sprayin
    Your team end up layin, on the sofa screamin and prayin
    Sayin, G-Unit niggas be rollin crazy, holdin 80's
    Older ladies starin cause they starin in that gold Mercedes
    Since 50 hooked up with Shady, now they tryin to book up and pay me
    If you think I'm shook up you crazy, baby
    The boy strapped two ninas
    Smokin out a bag big enough to fit on vacuum cleaners
    I wore a glove when I blazed you fatty, I ain't your baby daddy
    She flippin, now he tryin to grab me out the navy Caddy
    I ain't your ave-y, papa was a rolling stone
    Stockin up to own a home, pocket full of loaded chrome
    Drop and get a hold of dome, I know your motive homes
    You mad, cause I'm fuckin half your Motorola phone
    I'm swift with the women I'm good with my words
    A lot of, niggas is hatin on what I deserve I'm hotter
    Front if you want, end up on the curb in your Prada
    And your mans runnin, ambulance comin
    Another day another dollar, on the low from the Impala
    I can have a sixsome in my shower, motherfucker!

    [Outro]
    Nobody get hurt if nobody don't move
    Just give it up smooth (G-UNIT~!)
    Motherfucker you move I'll flash my tool
    And blast my tool (G-UNIT~!)
    Nigga you don't know me, and I don't know you
    You think you know my crew (G-UNIT~!)
    I send a nigga that you thought you knew
    To come through and put a hole in you (G-UNIT~!)

    [50 Cent]
    Lloyd Banks, ha ha!
    50 Cent! I ain't even gotta work hard
    Look at these niggas, ha ha ha
    The fuck you gon' do now nigga!
    You done had the same niggas in the background for a long time
    Think they gangster, but goin back and forth to jail
    Well jumpin the turnstile don't count nigga
    HA HA HA HA~!

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