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Lloyd Banks

Genres: Hip-Hop

Southside Story Lyrics - Lloyd Banks

Yea, yea, yea, I done learn from mistakes 

Like who's my men and who's not 

Like who's gon' run but who's not 

Like who's gonna shoot if you shot? 

Who gone hold they own, who's not 

Who's gone choose spots? 

 

In the streets of New York you can't trust nobody 

Niggas will run up on you wit a 12 gauge shoty 

Loyalty comes free, smokin' weed is my hobby 

You wanna rob me you gotta leave here wit a body 

 

In the streets of New York you can't trust nobody 

Niggas will run up on you wit a 12 gauge shoty 

Loyalty comes free, smokin' weed is my hobby 

You wanna rob me, you gotta leave here wit a body 

 

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When I was 10 years old I seen a nigga take 3 in the head 

Probably around the same time he used to pee in the bed 

I stayed a wake 'cuz my nightmares of seein' him dead 

The smell of burnt tire peelin' after leavin' him lead 

 

The killer fled wit a fuckin' laugh 

My heart pumpin' on blast, I just stared at him slumped in the grass 

Arms movin', fingers shakin', spittin' up blood 

DNA mixed in the mud, another ditch to be dug 

 

There I stood stiffer than wood 

See homie use to buy me candy 

Now, he's gone whose provide his family? 

My ear ringin' should have been runnin' 

 

I never thought I could be that sick 

Damn, I was suppose to see that shit 

That's when I thought it was more than 3 shots 

He could have been aimin' for me 

 

Photos 

 

Maybe he circled around the block 

I turn around to my pops 

He like what happen? This nigga rolled up and started clappin' 

I can still hear 'em laughin' 

 

In the streets of New York you can't trust nobody 

Niggas will run up on you wit a 12 gauge shoty 

Loyalty comes free, smokin' weed is my hobby 

You wanna rob me, you gotta leave here wit a body 

 

In the streets of New York you can't trust nobody 

Niggas will run up on you wit a 12 gauge shoty 

Loyalty comes free, smokin' weed is my hobby 

You wanna rob me, you gotta leave here wit a body 

 

It was a regular day in Southside 

Sprink-aklers kids runnin' all of a sudden 

Heads turnin', somebody did somethin' 

This nigga name I forgot, fuck it he lived around the block 

 

Regular gettin' money nigga but love to clown a lot 

Walked across the park stuntin' frontin' 

Diamond in his hear diamond watch on 

Eatin' a bag of popcorn 

 

Walked up behind this shorty grabbin' her waist 

She pushed him away, so he threw the bag in her face 

She felt disrespected, shorty couldn't except it 

Called him a pussy, told him she be back in a second 

 

He didn't pay her no mind called her bitch about 4 times 

Stayed in the park wit no niggas wit him and no nine 

Then in no time older nigga from behind swung a baseball bat 

Left his face all cracked told him take all that 

Hit him again popped his chain wit a frown 

And left the clown wit a stain on the ground 

 

In the streets of New York you can't trust nobody 

Niggas will run up on you wit a 12 gauge shoty 

Loyalty comes free, smokin' weed is my hobby 

You wanna rob me, you gotta leave here wit a body 

 

In the streets of New York you can't trust nobody 

Niggas will run up on you wit a 12 gauge shoty 

Loyalty comes free, smokin' weed is my hobby 

You wanna rob me, you gotta leave here wit a body 

 

And all my days go by blowin' that sticky icky 

California made me picky, chicken heads tryin' to stick me wit a hicky 

If we go up quickly stick me, somewhere tipsy the location don't matter 

I'm Southsidin' 'til they hit me 

 

I'd be dead if looks can kill, I'm from the ghetto, boys 

But I don't know Scarface or Bushwick Bill 

My heart spills for the kids that ain't got nothin' 

They gotta steal and for my cousin I lost 

Slumpt over the steerin' wheel 

 

In the streets of New York you can't trust nobody 

Niggas will run up on you wit a 12 gauge shoty 

Loyalty comes free, smokin' weed is my hobby 

You wanna rob me, you gotta leave here wit a body 

 

In the streets of New York you can't trust nobody 

Niggas will run up on you wit a 12 gauge shoty 

Loyalty comes free, smokin' weed is my hobby 

You wanna rob me, you gotta leave here wit a body 

Writer: ,

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