The Work Out - Lloyd Banks, 50 Cent

Ah you bitch ass niggas!

Y’all niggas love talkin'…

I just smile on my dude!

Y’all can catch me…

But there’s only one problem, niggas ain’t as bad as Bank$

… on the top of the newboard this summer!

Yeeaah nigga!

Punchline kid is back!

Whooooooooooooooooooooooo Kiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiid!

New York City stand the fuck up, man!

Yeah

Yeah!

— Go get ya camera man!

(yeah!) — That’s a Lambo' fam.

(yeah!)

Gun in the safe, the same one from Rambo hand.

I got a pack of?

— You know whatever chedda!

(huuh?)

Flyin' my New York hoe in — cause her head is better.

(uh!)

I said I’d never sweat her (nah!) — well I guess I lied (lied!)

She suck the ghost outta a nigga and I’m petrified.

(uh!)

You niggas nuthin' but roaches — hit the pesticide

I spray lil', you roll around in ya neck and die.

I’m the nicest out.

Look at the ring you hear the price and pout — every 16th I ice 'em out.

(bling!

50 sold 11 mill' brought Tyson house (uh!)

And mine to, cross dude and the knife come out.

I can’t wait to see you bricks on the sidestretch,

Bunch a holes in ya like the bricks in the projects.

Kefflon whips rubber grips for the nonsense,

Conscience — of the consequences, abnoxious.

('Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeyy!)

And we can ride all night;

Somebody might come get 'em.

— tie his bandana on too tight.

(uh!)

You can book 'em short notice, I’m a sell out in the night

The car won’t get me there — but the helicopter might.

(yeah!)

I bring all the toys out let the clip go shit

The whip so new — even the bird shit don’t stick.

(whoooo!)

I got a hell of a system sound travel 3 blocks (yeaah?)

Bulletproof doors and all you can eat tops.

(uh!)

Runnin' out to me,

I only need the funerals I button all you niggas up like Jay-Z.

I smoke for free when I’m out in DC

VVS’s is in my ear — clearer than HD.

I don’t know why he walk around with my logo he ain’t me (ain't me!)

Braggin' 'bout the millions of dollars you ain’t see.

(ain't see!)

Gimme ammo in a jammy!

(uh!) — my hand over a grammy (uh!)

2 cribs, that’s why I ship the Lambo' in Miami.

Please, ain’t tryin' to be in a jam over the panties (uh-uh!)

They love 'em when I leave 'em for the very same reason.

(Lenna!)

One nigga started.

— A couple niggas followed

Now they all can’t eat like the Next Top Model (Top Model!)

New York City boy but they love me in Chicago (RUN!)

A lil more in Philly from here to Atlantic City.

(yeeah!)

I flip flop smokin' around, 6 drop cruisin' the town.

(yeeah!)

6 shot ruger the pound with Hip-Hop screwin' them now.

(yeeah!)

Nah I don’t give a fuck Joe Pesci flow (uh!)

Might win another Vibe award if they let me go.

(lemme go!)

I’m like royalty a muthafuckin' king (haha!)

When I move she move!

— Like a puppet on a string.

50 karats on the bracelet a couple on the ring.

(yeah!)

My treasure chest is a mess, a bucket full of bling.

(yeah!)

I’m the P cut boy I tuck 'em in the whole piece

You mutherfuckas is lucky, I don’t wear gold teeth!

I hear alot of talkin' these niggas they mad at Bank$

I bet they’ll keep on talkin', after this shot they be tellin' the chicks.

My niggas they get it poppin' find-out when we at ya wake

You and you in your coffin, damn you made a big mistake.

YEAH!

It’s 50 nigga!

Y’all niggas know whassup!

Lloyd Bank$!

The changin' of the cards!

I’ll be back nigga… I’ll just fall back!

Feel what I’m sayin'?

It’s Bank$ turn nigga!

NOW WATCH THIS!

YOU HEAR TTAH?

Prrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!

That’s the money machine!

Boop, boop, boop!

You hear that… That’s the money truck backin' up!

It’s Lloyd Bank$ nigga!

You should already know?

!

You gonna eat with the Unit…

Or you gonna eat a can of sardines!

Haha!