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Saturday, November 13, 2010

Lloyd Banks - Payback (P's & Q's) Lyrics (Ft. 50 Cent)


Lloyd Banks - Payback (P's & Q's) (Ft. 50 Cent)

Uh, I meet my (?) at the corner store
(?) rapping out here, i just want it more
turn the music down, you can hear my stomach roar
bagged a hundred (?) last year, just bagged a hundred more
they hatin’ but everything that goes, comes back sticky green fun pack
jewellery make me hump back
back packers want that and they aint bout the diamonds (?)
he gon commercial, who you think they rhyming with
I got the drama kid and my Obama whip
running up on my stage, Lil mama sh-t
ugh, lil mama thick
and my time is slim
come bout thirty minutes after I put the condom in

Gettin’ to the dough
Louie on my foot
put the metal to the floor, is all a n-gga know

Payback don’t come around disrespecting
we dont take that
I’m on my leathers every second

and my hearts so cold I dont trust a soul
it’s funny how the bullsh-t goes you never know

Payback don’t come around disrespecting
we dont take that
I’m on my leathers every second

They crown me with the punch hat, who better?
I hit red skins, smoke green and spit blue pepper
Benz blue leather, Jet cool weather
cool meaning hot
so i don’t need the top
camn down, breath and stop
start and I’mma skip your pulse
Mister my life’s the sh-t
Calamari shrimp and boats
C-notes, 5 ferrari, different coast
I’ma suits em up probably aint gotta lift my toes
I shut my dogs on ‘em like Jehova witness
I done made it to the top like I said
I told you b-tches
they don’t really want me they just want my riches
so muthaf-ck the law, firends, cousins and sisters

I turn the club to TV, come dancing with the stars
than I’m in ya ear, in her ear, amping a menage
n-gga make the money, but never knew how it felt
in a hundred pair pants, thats a hundred different belts
dress kills, chronic helps
p-ssy just for the moment
ballin’ like a Hornet
see I get it, I want it
everybody knows, heat hurts you got to show me first
magician, but I can turn them to a Holy Ghost
you can bring two, three, four of them, the wars won
tick tock boom, make ‘em all run, come on son
big talks just talk, I let my money bark
put my Ferrari in park, give them a running start
go, cause I don’t feel a single drop of pressure
no, (?)strap foreign guap collector
he better stop all the hate, he know my ends straight
I clap your girl make the bed break, leak the sex tape

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