Gilmores Lyric by Lloyd Banks

Gilmores Lyric

by Lloyd Banks

Lyric:



Yeah, Ooh

You N****s Know What Time It Is?

It's Time For That Gangsta S***



We Ain't Got S*** To Live For

You Either Headed For The Pen

Or You're On Your Way To Gilmore

In The Middle Of The Real War

'cause A Five Dollar Bill Is The S*** N****s Kill For



I Make A Million Out, Yeah

I Don't Care About A Muthaf***a Out There

My Heart Cold And My Wrist Rock

And I F*** Around And Die Over Hip Hop



I Treat A Dollar Like A Mill, Countin' Every Bill

'cause If I Don't Watch Mine Another Muthaf***a Will

I Went Double But I Still Tuck The S****

I'm The Truth, Why The F*** You Think 50 Cut The Deal



Rollin' In A Bag Of * When You Cut The Seal

When I Bling The Paint Job On A Coupe De Ville

I Ain't Never Had A Pop, Poppa Never Had A Son

Nobody To Go Get, So I Ain't Never Run



They Chat Behind My Back But They Quiet When I Come

They Treat A Lil' N**** Like A Giant With A Gun

I Walk With A Swagger Like I Always Had Money

'cause I Know, They Rather See My Black A** Bummy



Ain't Nuthin' Funny Just A Whole Lotta Anger

Mind Of A Leader, Drama Of A Gang Banger

If A N**** Come On Property I Ain't Gonna Call

There'll Be A Splatter On Ya Shirt And It Ain't Paint Ball



We Ain't Got S*** To Live For

You Either Headed For The Pen

Or You're On Your Way To Gilmore

In The Middle Of The Real War

'cause A Five Dollar Bill Is The S*** N****s Kill For



I Make A Million Out, Yeah

I Don't Care About A Muthaf***a Out There

My Heart Cold And My Wrist Rock

And I F*** Around And Die Over Hip Hop



I Don't Follow No Rules I'm Gettin' In Here With The T***

And If I Don't, We Gonn' Burn This Muthaf***a Down

I'm Comin' Through Swingin' Like They Do In H-town

And I Roll Down The Window And Spin Ya B**** Face Around



I'm A Stunna, Hoggin' Up The Lane Like The Hummer

Till The Wheel Run Dry Like The Rain In The Summer

Even The Broke N**** Can't Afford To Go To Sleep

F*** Around And Get Ya Head P****** All Over The Street



And I Ain't Got Nuthin' For 'em But The Heat

My Lil' Brother Want Jewelry And Jordan's On His Feet

Now, They Recognize If Ya Slaughterin' The Beat

And If It Wasn't For Rappin', I'd Have Ya Daughter On The Street



I Been The Same Since Kane And Slick Rick Had It

Now N****s Die In The Car, My Whole Whip Had It

I Worked Too Hard To Let A N**** Have It

So I Pack The A******** For The Sideline Static, Yeah



We Ain't Got S*** To Live For

You Either Headed For The Pen

Or You're On Your Way To Gilmore

In The Middle Of The Real War

'cause A Five Dollar Bill Is The S*** N****s Kill For



I Make A Million Out, Yeah

I Don't Care About A Muthaf***a Out There

My Heart Cold And My Wrist Rock

And I F*** Around And Die Over Hip Hop