| WHOO KID DROP THAT SHIT!
|
| 'Ey!
|
| 'Ey nigga guess what!
|
| Ain’t a damn thang changed!
|
| DAMN!
|
| I can grab sixteen cars every sixteen bars (uh-huh!)
|
| My flow hard! |
| — These nigga’s is whip cream soft. |
| (whooo!)
|
| And I can still hit you with the lip beam off
|
| Leave four tire marks from a mink green Porche. |
| (er! er!)
|
| I got a hideout in the West so I stay warm
|
| And hoes rushin' me without the tank spray on (ahaha!)
|
| I’m in a Jet and there’s green by the box in it
|
| Headed to the A where they lean with it rock with it.
|
| All my rings got lil' green rocks in it (bling!)
|
| Ridin' with a Radar, I can pick up the cops with it! |
| (I see!)
|
| What you know about? |
| ! |
| Who’s in and out the house? |
| ! |
| (nothin'!)
|
| New York nigga with old schools in and out the South. |
| (UH!)
|
| I take a throw back, gold 'Lac and made it chrome
|
| You can’t get it your bread thin as a Razor phone. |
| (AAARRRGGGHH!)
|
| Do me a favor homes? |
| ! |
| — Stay out my way! |
| (yeah!)
|
| Every nigga that get in the way got to pay!
|
| These fake ballers eatin' Hip-Hop away! |
| (yeah!)
|
| I’m Magic! |
| I’m Bird! |
| I’m Dr. J. (yeah!) |
| I’m Kong! |
| I’m Martin! |
| I’m Malcolm X! |
| (YEAH!)
|
| He’s cool, but I don’t know about the rest. |
| (whooo!)
|
| I slept on these LPs since I left you
|
| I ain’t like them other niggas, I’m SPECIAL! |
| (SPECIAL!)
|
| Rap got hoes runnin' in and out the biz' (f*ck you bitch!)
|
| Bitch don’t watch me! |
| Watch your kids! |
| (KIDS!)
|
| I’m stuntin'! |
| — Worry about nothin'! |
| (uh!)
|
| These niggas frontin' or on drugs or somethin'. |
| (whatchu want?)
|
| You could drop the same day and still ain’t this (naaah!)
|
| And every nigga with a record deal ain’t rich! |
| (naaaah!)
|
| I’m a hit record babe, they give me the right pitch
|
| I’m the real deal! |
| — They phony and iceless.
|
| Get on that slippery shit! |
| (uh-huh!) — And get your Dickies ripped. |
| (uh-huh!)
|
| With the same Shotgun, they shot Ricky with
|
| A sweet dream is my mom on trips! |
| (uh!)
|
| A crib on a cliff and Sadams lil' bricks. |
| (haha!)
|
| Bumpin' Blood Money on my way up town
|
| And on my way back down I’m rollin' out a quarter pound — NOW!
|
| Now…
|
| Pal…
|
| It’s over!
|
| You ain’t f*ckin' with me nigga…
|
| Huh? |
| !
|
| Nobody…
|
| This is Lamonte Odom out the Los Angeles Lakers, Queens neither! |
| And you listenin' to G-UUUUNIT… Radio!
|
| With my nigga… Lloyd Bank$!
|
| DJ Whoo Kid! |
| (YEAH!) |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Special , by - Lloyd Banks. Song from the album Mo' Money in the Bank, Pt. 4, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп