Land Of Opportunity Lyrics - Lloyd Banks

Desperate to be found 

And blood stains all around 

And my stupid bust thought the lure would be enough 

You ain't seen nothing yet 

I'm always planted, couldn't push me down a hill 

I double numbers on up-and-comers, you rookies gotta chill 

Broke a classic of sour power, it whoop me out a mill 

Life's a bitch and still crowd around, that pussy gotta chill 

Pack an island on half my talent, your calendar is clear 

Black medallion, I'm back to stylin', and balancing career 

Nigga, miss me by that argument, left that in my 20s 

100s and 50s all I bargain with, still bagging up money, dummy 

I'm stereo trips, name of your guardian, superior wrist 

Play me to starve again, canary the fist 

Raise me a problem, don't compare me to shit 

Came from the bottom, bodies there on the strip 

Brand me a column, probably hear I'mma quit 

Grammy asylum, bottom tears on my shit 

Candy in Harlem, rocking flairs on my whip 

The profit handle and click, you out here scamming a trick 

You sneaky deaving, chop your hand you get slick 

Don't rock your sleepy, drop the bands on your fit 

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You getting to it, you don't talk about it 

When trouble comes there ain't no walk around it 

Why you think the morgue is crowded? 

Don't get your body chalk around it 

How in the land of opportunity when niggas trying to ruin me? 

Don't make us type your eulogy 

Class in session, pay your student fee 

They eyeing all your jewelry 

What your problems got to do with me? 

You begging, I ain't heard a thing, money hollers usually 

Photos 

Yeah, back at 'em with banks 

Reverse camera on, I back out of the bank 

No withdrawals, just depositing 

I ain't get this plug on Twitter, but I'mma follow 'em 

And what your problems got to do with me? 

And why the fuck you screwing me? 

I kill 'em then, go on read his eulogy 

I got beef, I don't talk about it 

Put the hawk up in 'em, spin 'em and pull the hawk up out 'em 

Pull the whip on the strip, niggas'll gawk about her 

Never stick your dick in a chick and bitch'll squawk about it 

Why these bitches wanna ruin me? 

Probably 'cause I'm speaking money fluently 

And this the land of opportunity 

I told Banks I get G's by the unit, B 

All I need is Yayo and there ain't nothing they can do with me 

You getting to it, you don't talk about it 

When trouble comes there ain't no walk around it 

Why you think the morgue is crowded? 

Don't get your body chalk around it 

How in the land of opportunity when niggas trying to ruin me? 

Don't make us type your eulogy 

Class in session, pay your student fee 

They eyeing all your jewelry 

What your problems got to do with me? 

You begging, I ain't heard a thing, money hollers usually 

Nothing reminds me of the grimy time to call it quits 

As soon as I fix 'em been off revenge, alcoholic twitch 

Popular kid when sloppy handing off enormous bricks 

Invitation the forces miss followed by performance slips 

A little diesel and California flips 

The figures transforming, destiny's calling your normal piss 

Stomping the standards I set, skipping the portal list 

20 fucking years on the set ditching the spoiled bitch 

Stuck on a new beginning, my fucks in a toolie spinning 

Wind up with the rule of the willing 

Die tough when the movie ending 

Bending these corners with the piece out, you panicking 

Play with the money, knock 20 teeth off your camera grin 

Breaking the borders, all the channeling 

I promised my conscience I'll be the man again 

And shock you out your ambient 

And posses died of family when, some pockets size champion 

Rockabye in panties and the boppers slide their hammers in 

You getting to it, you don't talk about it 

When trouble comes there ain't no walk around it 

Why you think the morgue is crowded? 

Don't get your body chalk around it 

How in the land of opportunity when niggas trying to ruin me? 

Don't make us type your eulogy 

Class in session, pay your student fee 

They eyeing all your jewelry 

What your problems got to do with me? 

You begging, I ain't heard a thing, money hollers usually