Lloyd Banks - Just Another Day lyrics

Man what the fuck are you lookin for?
Can't a young nigga make money any more
Blow a couple grand in the NBA Store
Rock twenty-four thousand on the NBA floor
Niggas be on stage bendin over on tour
Leave anti-social with a case of lochjaw
Just cause shorty look good
Don't mean that you should go
Puttin ice on the bitch like
She won the Superbowl
Even the chips are low
For all these so-called old heads
Just ain't the same niggas I used to know
I got a Houston ho - nah
She ain't the sharpest knife
In the drawer but she a
Damn good booster though
See I could fuck a supermodel with my ? works
Send her home with a smile and
A couple kids on her shirt
I got a year into the game
A 141 rocks layin on my chain, geah!

Just another day, chillin in the hood
Just another day around the way
I'm tipsy off the Hennessy
We ridin round with the H-K
Nigga we don't play
Just another day, chillin in the hood
Just another day around the way
We smoke a quarter pound a day
G-Unit we here to stay, nigga we don't play

Nevermind the lames in my era
They all want me dead and I know
It's all over the way I see bread
Here I go, caught up in some he say she said
'Til I go, put a slug in my enemy's head
The Tahoe's bulletproof so you
Can't get through then follow
Your ass and whoever ran with you
And you about as assed-out
As two jammed pistols
Bleedin around a bunch of niggas
Who can't fix you so bring yours
Cause you know I got mine with me kid
The 8'll make you lose weight like Missy did
The OG's tryin to hide they phony smilin
Reputation always arise in Coney Island
I'm at your local newsstand jerk
While the only XXL you been in as a shirt
And, speakin of shirts, get a new white T
God damn it feels good to be me - nigga!

Now I'm goin
Shoppin with a plastic card now i'm growin
Knockin international broads down
They know him
They're not gonna even pat the star down
I'm holdin
A Glock so don't even act that hard now
You might bust your gun but your
Gat's in the car clown
So break your lil' weed up
And crack your cigars down
Cause I ain't tryin to start my visit's
With the fuckin judge
Givin niggas life like it's parkin tickets
Now I get to go to bed with a model
And the crib is bout as big as
It is on the Belvedere bottle
I got all kind of ex' I
Could ram in they faces
Red and blue pills like the man in The Matrix
You might have spent some paper
On your lil' charm but
My piece is bout as heavy as Lil' Jon cup
But, it's never tucked
Nigga I don't give a fuck
I'll get bucked 'fore I give somethin up
Yup!