Lloyd banks - Payback (p's and q's)

Payback (p's and q's) Lyrics

[Verse 1: Lloyd Banks]
Uh, I meet my [?] at the corner store
[?] rapping out here, I just want it more
Turn the music down, you can hear my stomach roar
Bagged a hundred [?] last year, just bagged a hundred more
They hatin' but everything that goes, comes back sticky green fun pack
Jewellery make me hump back
Back packers want that and they ain't bout the diamonds [?]
He gon commercial, who you think they rhyming with
I got the drama kid and my Obama whip
Running up on my stage, Lil mama shit
Ugh, lil mama thick
And my time is slim
Come bout thirty minutes after I put the condom in

[Chorus: 50 Cent]
Gettin' to the dough
Louie on my foot
Put the metal to the floor, is all a nigga know

Payback don't come around disrespecting
We don't take that
I'm on my leathers every second

And my hearts so cold I don't trust a soul
It's funny how the bullshit goes you never know

Payback don't come around disrespecting
We don't take that
I'm on my leathers every second

[Verse 2: Lloyd Banks]
They crown me with the punch hat, who better?
I hit red skins, smoke green and spit blue pepper
Benz blue leather, Jet cool weather
Cool meaning hot
So I don't need the top
Camn down, breath and stop
Start and I'm a skip your pulse
Mister my life's the shit
Calamari shrimp and boats
C-notes, 5 ferrari, different coast
I'm a suits em up probably ain't gotta lift my toes
I shut my dogs on 'em like Jehova witness
I done made it to the top like I said
I told you bitches
They don't really want me they just want my riches
So motherfuck the law, firends, cousins and sisters

[Chorus]

[Verse 3: Lloyd Banks]
I turn the club to TV, come dancing with the stars
Than I'm in ya ear, in her ear, amping a menage
Nigga make the money, but never knew how it felt
In a hundred pair pants, that's a hundred different belts
Dress kills, chronic helps
Pussy just for the moment
Ballin' like a Hornet
See I get it, I want it
Everybody knows, heat hurts you got to show me first
Magician, but I can turn them to a Holy Ghost
You can bring two, three, four of them, the wars won
Tick tock boom, make 'em all run, come on son
Big talks just talk, I let my money bark
Put my Ferrari in park, give them a running start
Go, cause I don't feel a single drop of pressure
No, [?] strap foreign guap collector
He better stop all the hate, he know my ends straight
I clap your girl make the bed break, leak the sex tape

[Chorus]

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