Lloyd Banks – They Love Me In The Hood Lyrics

PYONG!
2

You pyonged “Lloyd Banks – They Love Me In The Hood”

Save Note No Thanks
Follow
Caution: You are now annotating this song as

[Verse 1]
Cold since my man died, over that a damn lie
Boy you smoking dust
Got these niggas by a landslide
Uhh, I got them niggas by a rocket ship
Hit the after-burner Ike Turner how I drop a bitch
I'm so far ahead I'm already dead
Getting at you from the future
That's why I'm used to what you said

Wait until you see the new superhead
She got the turbo wop, hop karma sutra in the bed
I got your yard on my card, back to future wit the bread
I pull your card, you a fraud, hope they shot you in your head
Boy your pockets in the red, you fronting and ya style phony
Every day a trending topic keeps the pound on me
Exotic women, heavy leaning, that's how I'm living
The punch line king, on the run from Robin Givens
Every week a nigga leak a bunch of robbings killings
Fuck a hater make a million let survival feed him

[Hook: LLoyd Banks]
Still stand where I stood, they love me the hood
Them bitches talking about me, thats how I'm doing good
Understood I'm good they love me in the hood
Understood I'm good they love me in the hood
I'm in love with money I don't love these hoes
I love to get paper and spend it on these clothes
Do you hear me?
Understood I'm good they love me in the hood

[Verse 2]
Be in here with the weapons on, blink get your necklace torn
Hef the don, fucking on your sister like Escobar
Escalade eyes bloody red like I've been pepper sprayed
Sex for exercise, bitches screaming when I step on stage
I get busy dough from here to Quebec I'm paid
Fuckin since a kid, then grab weed borret soon braids
I know the neighbors hate my guts I be recking them
My seconds make a twirler stay for months fuck the wrestling
Protects ya neck again like rae and meth and em
I'm excellent you full of estrogen with a freshman pen
You couldn't cloud my intelligence with elegance
I'll never flinch whip game like they threw the elephants
I'm heaven sent living vicariously through these presidents
Done worked my whole life to get two, i've been spending ever since
Og kush bags couldn't find a better stench
Fly like D. Wilkins and Kemp shootin the bench

[Hook]

[Verse 3]
Big city to country all the pretty bitches wants me
Toe tags for trying to jump me, gun smoking like a junkie
Frying pan man turn your head into a Gumby
When I'm hungry ain't a a humble bum, picture a nigga summy
Sunny everywhere shocked they let you in scummy every year
Pick a spot I'm heavy there, liquor poppin everywhere
Fucking dimes or something, my hora got the telly scared
All problems aborted, sons and daughter on your belly smeared
Rapped in fire black attire she's the appetizer
Humming on my trail all day ima clap her after china
Mr. no good hood is ever acid rhymer
Shorty fly as hell about 11 levels past Cubana
I'm honored, loaded lama niggas hate ya honor
Donna Karen, Sharen, Chanel in my hotel
All the snickering, I'm running through this money till the trip is done
I meet it at the bottom with my niggas son

[Hook]

Edit song description to add:

  • Historical context: what album the song's on, how popular it was
  • An explanation of the song's overall story (example: "In this song, Eminem corresponds with a crazed fan who ends up...")
  • The sample used for the beat — use WhoSampled.com and wikipedia as references
Song lyrics have been changed by someone else. Copy your work to your clipboard and click here to reload.