Lloyd Banks - Gettin Money lyrics

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 VIP 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)
Entrepreneur 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)

Allow me to display excellence
Poppa caught a nut, momma had a son and I've
Been this way ever since (wooo)
You know, head full of negligence
Hell-a high dog in the bing
Over bitch made evidence
My whole hood on the
Chase for dead presidents
'Cause ain't nothin' out here
Che-che check out my residence
Man I'm the best, nothin' more nothin' less
But, I will be the greatest
When I back-off my hiatus (g'eah)
My neighborhood's good but I don't
Wave to my neighbors
They wouldn't see it anyway, they
'bout a block away, hEY!
My flow is rawer than Columbian yay'
I'm like the MJ in his day hungry to play
And the level-7 Suburban there come with a 'K
It's on-road off-road, put your Hummers away
Okay?
Come swingin' you'll be bleedin' from the gun
'Cause, I ain't tryna wrestle not
Even with my thumb (OH)
I went to hot Cancun from
Freezin' in the slum
Half done, off Bacardi Breezers with the rum
(WOOO) i ain't never been a cuddlier
She's leavin' when I come
Like Deebo on his bike: "Spend
The evening with your son!"
You ain't leavin' with a crumb
Bitch I'm from the hood, ya heard?
Violate, I wish you would you bird
Y'all don't want it with the Boy Wonder
That'll only get you in a rumble
Crawlin' on the floor like a fumble, nigga