Lloyd Banks - Til The End lyric
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Lloyd Banks
Til the End
*Alarm Clock*
*Gun Shots*
Verse 1:
Nobody dead knew they would die before they woke
Prolly started off a beautiful day with weed smoke
Outta last nights pussy the murder that she wrote
Cold sweatin from a nightmare, mind on a C-note
You leave the door open, tensions of fulfillin your visions
Constantly sidetrack thinkin about whos your man and who isnt
Maybe its necessary maybe your overreactin
Maybe your actual downfalls that hoe that you clappin
Maybe your pillow conversations been controllin your actions
Maybe your homie overheard and never told you what happened
You look behind you when you turn the coner
Cause death is promised and you done seen some niggas go before ya
The threats honest, and with that lingerin in the back of your head
You know its possible that you wont make it back to your bed
The confusion and jealousy and dishonor'll spin ya
But done nothin hurt worse then when that gun powders in ya
Chorus:
If you my nigga, you my nigga til the end
Fuck a bill fuck a bitch fuck a Benz
Lets toast til we die
Roll up the weed and blow the smoke in the sky
If you my nigga, you my nigga til we go
One of the few I would take a bullet for
Lets toast til we die
Roll up the weed and blow the smoke to the sky
Verse 2:
The smell of Marijuana reiks off me
I raise hell before I speak softly callin the next
Put atleast 100 grand on one hand bought em six
Aknowledge the weaknesses that his man taught him to fix
We aint never left the hood so we cam-corder the trips
I done watch the nigga go from BET to the bricks, shit
Her slanted eyes with the chocolate thighs take me
Ima bachelor nigga you aint knockin my lady
Alota these niggas been jockin mine lately
And I hope they catch the long nap and not rock-a-bye baby
When two brothas pushed outta different mama's
Close enough to conflict and put this shit behind us
Your baby boy made the big time
Hoes is watchin and these niggas tryna get mine
Remember back then the lines in your flattop
Hoppin your moms aint the mama on crack rock
Chorus
Verse 3:
I keep my mind on my money and my head to the sky
I never really smile much if you was here youd know why
Its frustration and fire if you look in my eye
The media fuckin me up, right hookin my high
Niggas hated on us for the game took us inside
Then they opened they arms wide took the whoppin and cried
I got a platnium plaque hangin on the wall in my crib
And handsomes one of the things they been callin the kid
They watch you close when you coppin all them VS stones
If you aint tryna get it poppin leave the BS home
I got us a Diddy broad that gives the best dome
And im blowin on some of the finest weed thats grown holmes
You wont know when they gon' dump a slug
But you can tell im gettin money from line out the front the club
My whole click caked up, you cant compare the dough
And if its only one bitch dont even share a hoe
Chorus
whoaaaa whoaaaaa
La La La
*Alarm Clock*
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