Trav, Jim Jones, Lloyd Banks - Presidential lyrics

[Trav, Jim Jones, Lloyd Banks - Presidential lyrics]

I like presidential cars
Presidential bitches presidential Rollies
I’m a presidential nigga
My, my, my life different, my life different
My, my, my life different
And everything presidential

You’re fucking with a PM presidential nigga
Ho, never been a… a nigga, no
Bent the bitches nigga flow
Probably in that fake or foe
Proud since a younger and I was
Busting trying to get the dough
Hold up… roll up, get fold up
Let go, it’s close to us
Dead life, any beat that camp right
Doing by the hundreds zooming
On that turn pipe!
I earn stripes, you earn badges
Nerve on these faggots
South Side bulling like them average


You lock out, we lock in, what’s popping?
New York city keep it rocking

I handle my business like the oval office
Yeah, I’m still shitting
I’ll be over flossing
Dropping head rows on my way to Lamas
Presidential rally, big face Obama!
I had a dream, but rock on my time
Bitches on my back, cops on my life
Package, top of the line
I’m on your bitch brain, my car gone to mine
I blew the fuck up, like I stepped on a mine
… your ten millions, never slept with a dime
(You hear that?)
In my life I had some hoes on a mattress
Life’s a movie, so you just know the actors
I’m on a different lifestyle, no
My niggas moved away to make your
They call me Capo, el presidente
I’m in a coop with the roof

Fuck you gon do what I do, I ain’t human
The flyest don before me died
I play the new one
Niggas don’t want you to win
They probably loosing my bitch a dime so she
Snotty from her body movements
I need keys to the county
And money by the rumors pYTs by the bounty
On they knees see me shooter
Rely on the ruger, pray to the almighty ruler
Catching body after body
Dead models in my future!
I’m the shit, look at my wit
The hermes on me
G slide with these niggas lis
I’m back to flip
Godfather rolled a half a zip
I’m clapping cliques
Call my jeweler get my platinum fix
Don’t pack for trips
Half a millie in my bag of tricks
Rack the six, wrap the wrist
Lean back I’m rich
Class dismissed, Mr sixteen stacks of cris
Eyecandy by the bulk, punk I average this

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