Lloyd Banks ft. Jim Jones - Fly Like The Wind | Текст песни

• Тексты песен
• Lloyd Banks ft. Jim Jones
• Fly Like The Wind

If it aint the whip, its the jewels.
New hit after hit, makes your chicks wanna choose
The hammers always workin, we in here with the tools
Fitty on the fifth? seven hundred on the shoes
I gotta win, damn if i lose, whips fly in the wind, checks coming by the twos
I gotta win, damn if i lose, all my ex's got cold hearts i'm probably that cool

We spendin cash over here you a swiper
You beefin' on the internet I aint a big typer
I make her think i like her, You wifin' yellow ice so when the problems start it up boy you just a pedal biker
Queens in this bitch, clean in the six (series)
New york city nigga i dont like no team but the Knicks
Only Giant take Jets, baguettes gleam off the wrists G-coded fully loaded, gat and beam on the trips
stuntin in the rover, gucci polo nike timbo's show
hatiens hella no, money stretch out like a limo though
Banks flow is stupid, his raps get me smothered
I get guap around the world girl my stacks multi-colored UH
Private lanes, we aint gotta lane to change planes?
Poppin hella tums, tryna kick the champagne pains
Blockin out my haters with designer name-frames
Poker face, giggling inside at ya fake chains

CHORUS
If it aint the whip, its the jewels.
New hit after hit, makes your chicks wanna choose
The hammers always workin, we in here with the tools
Fitty on the fifth? seven hundred on the shoes
I gotta win, damn if i lose, whips fly in the wind, checks coming by the twos
I gotta win, damn if i lose, all my ex's got cold hearts im probably that cool

JIM JONES
Im into knockin bitches off, knockin bitches out
When it comes to bricks (or soft?)
We got em in a drought
I got the lambo whippin off, the tires skiddin out
When a nigga lift the doors, a fly nigga gettin out
HUH my chain swinging like a haymaker
this is vampire life, we the daybreakers
if you wanna bet your luck you spend a day in vegas
but if you wanna fuck with us you might make the papers
trying to watch the roof crumble like a piece of paper
and they better watch they (step?) like they need a baker
I gave the watch face bo-tox shots
and my neck keep me cool in all the hot spots

CHORUS
If it aint the whip, its the jewels.
New hit after hit, makes your chicks wanna choose
The hammers always workin, we in here with the tools
Fitty on the fifth? seven hundred on the shoes
I gotta win, damn if i lose, whips fly in the wind, checks coming by the twos
I gotta win, damn if i lose, all my ex's got cold hearts im probably that cool

LLOYD BANKS
I got a lot to prove, you lose matter of time
My swagger (dies of news?) you fools made at my shine
hoppin down the avenues, new jewels back on the grind
run up on us with ya lil cute tools, your out your mind
Niggas copycating, aint that flow familiar
Ghetto (still?) lobby packing when i go Brazil
Aint no bitches (snotty actin?) if you aint broke they feel ya
2-11 wood grain willa, bentley overkill
UH my chick as nasty as it gets,
you think i walk around with beads on, how they be flashin tits
my shorty cookin clean, handle magic tricks
make it clap, gag spit, miss me with the average bitch
Reefer baby, air jordan made me sneaker crazy.
Never been a cuffer, hidden ducker, you can keep me lady
(blue hefter?) heartbreaker, only speakers play me
new mercedes, 180 my whole fleet is crazy

CHORUS

Lloyd Banks ft. Jim Jones еще тексты