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Show Time (The Game’s Over) - Lloyd Banks
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Show Time (The Game’s Over) Lloyd Banks

Show Time (The Game’s Over) - Lloyd Banks
[Intro]
Ok, ok, ok!
That's it!
Ha ha ha hah!
You stupid motherfucker!
Huh?
I'm what you wanna be, nigga!
Huh!
Talk that shit in front of me, man!
You already know what time it is man, it's the Unit!
It's no one better!

[Verse]
Yeah
One's for the money, two's for the groove
I cruise, on the interstate so smooth (Uh-huh)
Rather be the rebel, move when I wanna move (Yeah)
30 days straight, 30 pair new of shoes
Fools, feelin' like they got shit to prove (Huh)
Lose or lose, you do not get to choose (Ah-ah)
Sparks crackling off the top of my fuse
The rap A-Bomb, so nigga stay calm
The flow's way gone
Blue and gray charm
Long firearm, that'll do away harm (Yeah)
I'm a don, bitch log on
To "www.ididit.com"
I tried to warn 'em (Yeah)
Now I'm on 'em (Yeah)
From midnight to morning the kid Michael Jordan (Uh)
Disappear in thin air the car often
Poof, I'm at your front door like a orphan
Breeze in the lot, nibble off the auction (Ah-ah)
Dude's exhaustion, I brought New York in
You ever seen a walkin' and talkin' coffin (Hunh?)
Well, that's what I see when I see ya
You bumped heads with the OD'er (Uh)
The overseer; see my chrome millimeter (Woo!), either
You're just dumb or had too much reefer
Oh, you ain't with it, well I ain't with it either
Just my luck, you slip into a seizure (Uh)
Rap don't need ya, slip the cold [?] (Bye)
Spit through the filter, get a microphone fever
Big heart, the temperature of the freezer
News flash, nobody believes ya (Uh-uh)
Bumped your fuckin' head, developed amnesia
You ain't me, let alone a leader
Yeah, you don't even write your own shit (Nigga)
Nigga you feelin' hyper? Go sit
I break off a brick then wipe the whole strip (Pap, pap, pap, pap)
You want attention, so I'm addressin' ya
Nigga, I can wrestle ya, or .38 special ya (Uh)
It come Christmas, it gets messier
The rap messy ya, runnin' niggas over
Yeah, I shine, line for line, I'm Albert Einstein, pounds of chron chron
That South Side bullshit, I'm on it (Uh)
Time to make 'em sick, lung full of vomit
That's what you get when you spar with Muhammad
Cocktail bombs in your car do a comet (Boom)
The hood made him cover up the butterfly (Butterfly)
Now I'ma make him cover up the other eye (Yeah)
Cause you ain't never merked nuttin', that's another lie
Nigga, don't make me, hum you a lullaby
What's the matter, you ain't got no help now
They left you all alone for your meltdown
You cryin' in the dark and I knew it
Next time you think about killin' yourself, do it (Just do it),
Cause you a bitch-ass nigga anyway you view it
And they know from Compton to the conduit
I'm from a town where they all rough (Queens)
And anybody that don wore a tongue ring can't talk tough (Uh)
You ain't even seen half of Fif'
You only one album in and 50 wrote half of it (Heh)
You said you a rider and you thuggin'
Then you turn around and hug Joe Budden (Awwww)
Now, either that's soft or I'm buggin'
That's what happens when you turn nuttin' into somethin'
That boy's bluffin', he'll talk if they cuff him
It's All About The Benjamins, you payin' for 'em, fuck 'em!
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