[Lloyd Banks] I just touched down, Ferrari to concrete I ain’t even home and they’re talking about me f-ck out my ear if you talking ’bout freedom n-gger Free don’t pay the bills Im ballin’ all out, b! You rappers don’t know me Nah I ain’t your homie If your name aint Em, Ferrari or Tony I like my wheel chromey My Bentley my Rolly My Magnum my forty South Jamaica shawty these losses I took in the gut yo the work’s still here, I’m just cooking it up slow Clear my mind, you whippin’ the truck load my Pop dead, but he live through his son though if rap aint work, I’ll be pimpin’ on some hoe Still eating lobster and shrimp in the Bungalow I’m back like crack over the drumroll You know, wherever I go the gun go
[Akon - Chorus] We on the grind (hey) all the time (hey) ain’t bout to let a n-gga come and snatch mine I keep a nine, you see the shine I might just 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 smile off) Ghetto celebrity aint nothing changed n-gger
[Lloyd Banks - Verse 2] The media will test ya, popularity is pressure Porche Panamera platinum hammer through the metal wreck the booth up, I’m too tough that inner city grammer lyrics courtesy of killerhiphop.com step your jewels up, they bruised up I’ll sparkle for the camera harsh reality’s what (?) holding them back from opening verbal attack all over these n-ggas, push the herd to the back I’m the kind that they pray on, spending half of their day on lay on, n-ggas for days, just shots spray on my sound system knock and in pound Tupac 6-4 jumping like the ground too hot they spot me, they chase a n-gga down two blocks two shots in the air for n-ggas that aint here two tone, two door, grey top, roof floor green guap galore, in and out of new hall that bright light you saw, was a paparazzi flash I’m tryna snap a picture through your Maserati glass