Large On The Streets Lyrics - Lloyd Banks

Literally drops and blood shed 

Sour dough, nuff bread 

In position of power them chumps dead 

Backstabbers and cowards get drunk beds 

And violent when unfed, PO's get a challengers bum head 

Medic, didn't mean it, shouldn't have said it 

Insults are remembered, we all working to said it 

Dont play with me, you'll regret it 

Cause I target the man before the edit 

Leave you like hard tops beheaded 

I keep cream, the pistols my street team 

Triples on my sweet beam 

Crystals in my lap, I'm a beach dream 

The skyscrapers to South Jamaica to foreign paper 

I dominate ya, my shine shows a thousand acres 

I knock 7 bitches down in Vegas 

Knock 7 pictures down, I'm famous 

I gotta work 

Congratulate me with a lot of purp 

I'm straight as a college shirt, money to the collar bone, it gotta hurt 

Million dollar condo windows, my view spotless 

Cant see over my shoe boxes 

I hold a big grudge, can't maintain my cool conscience 

Smooth offence, high middle the news conference 

New sponsors hoes trickin from how I dick em 

Ten orgasm's more they gon powder six ones 

She ever had a grimey thought I shook it out her system 

On cloud nine I smoke like a politician 

Southside yelling at every rhyme I'm spitting 

Popeyes and long sides from rides driven 

Lil homie been smoking, he 11 now 

Product of the same neighborhood, hope that don't let him down 

Dont go popping off your mouth, harlem showing I go loko 

Lloyd lost in time, hear my 1994 flow, came with the yellow 

Gardener with the Rose Gold 

Him with the platinum crush ice 

If your nose colds, train em with the raps 

Dirty boxer with the low blows 

Famous with the tatts, 

Keep straps for you and so so 

Flat line, I put a MC to rest 

Chipped up shoulder, ill like the Fila F 

They gave me something to smile and feel like I need to rest 

Middle of summers my shine and bricks and weed for stress 

I got em hopping out of chracter my gun caliber, babbler 

Lift bars as hard as Africa 

Karma's a trafficker, challengers a root statistic 

Pardon my picnic, tooley on, MR fix it 

My ups and downs got me looking at these bitches different 

Staring at my dad in these pictures twisted 

I aint ya normal, I'm on my shit terrific 

I figured I warn you, the bigger ticket 

Big baller call you 

I hope it's on you Lord knows a nigga push me 

I set 'em on wheels, all you get is midget pussy 

Cookies with you pop snatched I pop back 

Radio hijack get it all before I die rap 

My contacts help driving you soundtrack 

Order built for combat 2010 and beyond that 

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