Gettin Money Lloyd Banks

[20 seconds instrumental intro]

[Verse 1]
I'm tired of niggas thinkin' they Sylvester
But now you prob'ly thinkin' which one
Shit, Rambo, Rocky, pick one (ooh!)
I'm in the seven star telly
And the room key come with a butler
If you bring her, you gon' fuck her (boo!)
I'm a playa, I use my rules the two-thousand-and-five
2 Live Crew's in the Moulin Rouge (yeah!)
When I party, I tend to get a few long screws
So I'm in the V.I.P with the two long Ruges (uh-huh!)
You stupid to go against us, 'cause you gon' loose
We got bullets, the size of newborn shoes (wooo!)
And I'm connected around the board, so the Southside chiefs
Out in Ca$hville nothin' 'bout steel and gold-teeth (whattup?)
You ain't got to know Hip-Hop to know 'bout this (uh-uh!)
Entrepre-nigga with the poke-out wrist (yeah!)
Give me the dice, I fuck around and throw 'bout six
And be the reason you roll out piss, I'm buyin' Cris' with this
(Yeeeeeeeah!) I'm from the slum, so this is pitched
To the lil' niggas that never got a Christmas gift
Give me a minute to hear me out
So clear my name from the bullshit (uh-huh!)
'Cause gettin' money what I'm really 'bout
And chinchilla when it's chilly out (uh!)
Rollin' up a phillie blunt, pay attention to how I really stunt (woo!)
Either you gangsta or really drunk
Fuck what ya heard, my clique run the city, chump (chump)