Artist: Lord Superb
Album:  Superb Clientele
Song:   Letter to Chip Banks
Typed by: pneumatic

[Intro: Lord Superb]
This right here is dedicated, To all my fallen soldiers
All my five borough niggas, My L.A. niggas
My A.T.L. niggas, To all my niggas in Oppa Locka, What up baby

[Lord Superb]
I went and saw the movie and all
That shit made me cry, Bad Boy I'm feeling yall
Uhh, But that aint part of my script
I high jacked this beat to talk about my man Chip
Remember Banky Santana, Pardon me yall, The real Santana
I know you up there, With my Nana
You and my brother Moose sitting next to the best planner
Tell God I said thanks for the talent
And introducing me to my son Pete from Shaolin
We getting money tryna get you a Grammy
You know, Just to put it on the wall unit
You always said you wanted one to put it on the wall unit
I heard about Haz, How could he do that shit
If it was up to me I'd have somebody shoot that kid
But I know you want me to do better, So I can live better
Cause if we living better, I'ma get your kids better
Aint seen em in a while, Don't know where they live
That's a shout out to any chick with Chip's kids
And fuck a tooth for a tooth, I want a life for a life
Somebody real close to him like his sister or wife
Ayo the whole Harlem hurting, It really cracked they shell
Cause you a motherfucking legend like Richard Darnell
Like Alpo, Fritz and them
And if you up there with BIG, Tell him we still missing him

(instrumental break)

[Lord Superb]
You know, Ayo the words are something else, I just can't call him
Ghost be on my mind, I just can't call him
Pain from being broke is making me hungrier
Them two week old hair cuts is making me uglier
Damn, Streets got a nigga depressed
Nigga stressed, I can feel the pain in my chest
My brother just died, I'm tryna cop him a head stone
When I was locked up they turned my block to a death zone
But I know how to push it quiet
How to roll un-noticed like some bullshit tires
Live by the code, Blow your face off your head
When we buried Nana, I knew the gangstas was dead
To her, Even church was a fashion show
She said everything was class and dough
That's why every Saturday she copped shoes to match her robes
She said boy you better flash and glow
And all Nana did was take care of kids
And she only died to get me near BIG
I aint got no imagination, The streets in my head
I guess they feed us soul food cause we aint gonna eat when we dead