Gilmore's

[Intro]

Yea, Whoooooooooooooooooo

You niggas know what time it is

It's time for that gangsta shit

[Hook]

We ain't got shit to live for

Either you're headed for the pen or you're on your way to Gilmore

In the middle of the real war

Cause a five dollar bill is the shit niggas kill for

I make a million out yeah

I don't care about a muthafucka out there

My heart cold and my wrist rock

You could fuck around and die over Hip-Hop

[Verse 1: Lloyd Banks]

I treat a dollar like a mill, counting every bill

Cause if I don't watch mine another muthafucka will

I went double but I still tuck the steel

I'm the truth, why the fuck you think 50 cut the deal

Rawer than a bag of D when you cut the seal

When I bling the paint job on a Coupe De Ville

I ain't never had a pop, poppa never had a son

Nobody to go get, so I ain't never run

They chat behind my back but they quiet when I come

They treat a lil' nigga like a giant with a gun

I walk with a swagger like I always had money

Cause I know, they rather see my black ass bummy

Ain't nothing funny just a whole lot of anger

Mind of a leader, drama of a gangbanger

If a nigga come on property I ain't going to call

There'll be a splatter on your shirt, and it ain't paintball

[Hook]

We ain't got shit to live for

Either you're headed for the pen or you're on your way to Gilmore

In the middle of the real war

Cause a five dollar bill is the shit niggas kill for

I make a million out yeah

I don't care about a muthafucka out there

My heart cold and my wrist rock

You could fuck around and die over Hip-Hop

[Verse 2: Lloyd Banks]

I don't follow no rules I'm getting in here with the town

And if I don't, we going to burn this muthafucka down

I'm coming thru swinging like they do in H-Town

And I roll down the window and spin you bitch face around

I'm a stunner, hogging up the lane like the Hummer

Till the wheel run dry like the rain in the summer

Even the broke nigga can't afford to go to sleep

Fuck around and get your head popped all over the street

And I ain't got nothing for them but the heat

My lil' brother want jewelry and Jordan's on his feet

Now, they recognize if you slaughtering the beat

And if it wasn't for rapping, I'd have your daughter on the street

I been the same since Kane and Slick Rick had it

Now niggas die in the car, my whole whip had it

I worked too hard to let a nigga have it

So I pack the Automatic for the sideline static, Yea

[Hook]

We ain't got shit to live for

Either you're headed for the pen or you're on your way to Gilmore

In the middle of the real war

Cause a five dollar bill is the shit niggas kill for

I make a million out yeah

I don't care about a muthafucka out there

My heart cold and my wrist rock

You could fuck around and die over Hip-Hop