Artist: Cognito Album: Tru Cognizance Song: Big Bank Typed by: cesper_rokz@yahoo.com * * send corrections to the typist [Hook: repeat 4X] We got big bank, big rank walkin through the club like my shit don't stank [Verse One] Remember back in the day we used to sport fox Izod alligator shirt with the socks Louie Vuitton, I used to rock it like farm Gucci with the tag, not painted on Now them days done gone, and shit done changed I went from a bronco to a six range Nawmakazel, now it's Cartier frames Light weight chains, princess cuts mang Chedda like velvetta, i'm in the club V.I.P, with a black heata Thug drama, smokin on blue sticky They see me ballin in this game and they wanna hit me. (Cog-nonsense) Lets go, giocanna eyes low Two-way E, tell 'em to meet us at Roscoes Ball til I Fall, thats my motto In LA, NY even in Flo Sittin on 'tractin rims wit' a mexican, took X again want sex again Jot it down, it was told to me by that boy, A.K.A. The P-O-E [Hook] - 4X [Verse Two] Deep in ya brain, the nigga you cant stand Most get upset when I switch cris hands Shoulda left band, it gets worser man Ice so bright, you salute both hands. (switzin') To the dot 6 we ride, got two chicks that promise to say Ahh We'll pop a X and swallow between thighs Yall get it right, while I chase the sky Been here, been bubblin' like coke pots Boy, I cant stop Bentley, Lex or a drop top The fo' on, ?? soft leather til pop Lyrically man, niggas to the turf like cops. (goddamn) Little mama got class, absolutely, Gucci dime ass Oooh, I wanna hit it from the back til ya cry Cognito, you the best I wont lieeee V.I.P, you know me, mob related Toast style like Kool & the gang, celebratin' Guns stay cocked, why not? It's real life Cause playin' in this game you lose your real life [Hook] - 4X [Verse Three] Aint it a shame the way the ferrari vibrate the body Collectin mo' chips than laser sex parties Me, I, be with the P-O-E Til I'm calm, restin the box with crossed arms The beat double, look around where you say it cause its like trouble Who's watchin? My man Ricky Ross Six-six giocanna, twelve and don't test the calico wrist Cant forget E-class, sniper-like Even if peripheral view, you lose sight With so much ice, we turn night into day We too fly, in front of the Source awards Red Eyeeeee [Hook] 6X Walkin through the club, like my shit don't stank