Lloyd Banks – 1, 2, 3 Grind Lyrics

Produced By: Araabmuzik

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[Lloyd Banks: Verse 1]
Wordplay in the worst way
Earthquake, niggas is shook, ash in my purp tray
20′s on Benz day, Lincoln on Thursday
Highday, full fever leaving off the driveway
Cheeba got my mind grey, diva bottle entree
Cooler than a cooler, armed like a padre
Ya baby momma dream about the God
I let her hit the button fingers startin up the car

Style when I sleep, snicker when I hit the street
Greens pillin' up, body builder when I lift the beat
My weed sour my bitches sweet
Marine style but my shit discrete
Watch me make the flip repeat
I don't trick or treat, but so halloween
Michael myers with the fire trip holla scream
I gotta lotta cream, and a solid team
It's like I'm playin solitare
I don't see a challenge here, yeaaah

Money movin on the dime
Ready 1…2…3 grind
Niggas better give me mine
About my funds, top down
Ready for the shine
Gettin to it so inline
I'm influenced by the gold
I do it if I tried
I'mma get 'em every time
Ready 1…2…3…grind!

[Prodigy: Verse 2]
You know there's rules that you following
And tools get the hollow point
Poppin' at these fools
These dudes get their narrow ass deceased
I terminate, unleash the purly gate
Put that work in than I spin like a 38
All around the world, back around the world twice
Fucking with the internash infamous paradigm
Catch your bitch on the line at the concert
I'm gonna take advantage of this opportunity time

I'm the worst of the worst, vultures
Come on slime, you ain't never in your life never life like mine
This is grand theft audio, you just a petty crime
In my parade of hits, get confetti on my shine
You short like spaghetti, I'm harder than a whale dick
Clap a nigga real quick, falling outta line like
1 2 3 they will be dropping like Dominoes, vamonos
I show you how to die, it's career suicide must be on that crack high
Coming at me diagonally, the fuck you on your mind fuck be on you niggas brains
It seems you wish death

Yo blow, these niggas playin' games ready for flesh


[Lloyd Banks: Verse 3]
Big chain photo, still beaming when you see me
HFM in 3D, hood beemer bump my CD
I'mma a creep, do some foul shit every week
Fuck my shawty sister, left her lipstick all in my sheets
Stay low I'm on that numb shit, hit and bounce shit
I'm looking for a minaj they looking for a sponsor
Opposite of bubblegum rap, I chew the track
All 4 of my pockets fat, Like New York city rat
Brighter than my jewelery I'm in line with the stars
I'm from Mars, I'm bad stacking Domino broads
Living large, you gon need 500 bars
When we drive, make bouji bitches climb in the cars
Wheels spin the street off, Porsche peel with the feet off
The haters still hating it ain't hard to tell that he lost
In need of defrost, brick ? this shit old
Play with me get hospitaled or wife widowed


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