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Artist: Lloyd Banks
Album:  The Cold Corner 2
Song:   No Love
Typed by: 

[Lloyd Banks]
Handful of haters, know when I stop 'em
Survivor of close calls, though I'm feelin like death's knockin
Inside's numb, thank God for music, my head's rockin
Wasn't for that I'd be lost now, racin against the clock
And I could see it in your smile you don't mean it, livin foul is your secret
Want me down on the cement, talent found I'ma keep it
My brother's keeper, keepin my head above the water
Life's a bitch beggin, but I got nothin for her
Slaughter, bitches outta order from my aura
I need my angel to come when I call her and save the baller
Rocks sporter, give me floor space, I'ma need a stupid flip
There's money, cars, bitches and jewels to get - let's do this shit
Look how my music hits, I got that loud on
Soul diesel in a cloud gone, get your style torn
Heart crosses for body losses
They in a better place, probably bosses, with Ferrari horses
I'm just as nice as anyone that wore the crown
Livin my dream, keep what you think, don't spoil it now
I could sense the hate before the frown, you're born a clown
Droppin all them bricks off, toilet bound, don't water it down
I got the anger to set it off, you're feather soft
In and out the beat tracks, intercourse through metaphors
The mack bridge, she get across, I met her jaws
5-star flaws, them better tours and cheddar talks
My work bodies like a shottie let off in a party
Pardon my partner, he pumped and ready to hurt somebody
You send your bitch to line me you gon' lose your Bonnie
He no rude awakening, you find me with the Ruger 'round me

[Chorus: Lloyd Banks]
Uh, R.I.P. my nigga, I'ma see ya when I see ya
I'm holdin it down here, niggaz still tryin to be ya
But, but, there'll never be another crew like us
Bottles in the air, gettin high, all I do is crush
And 'til the day I'm dust
There'll be no love (no love)
No love (no love) no love (no love)
Nah... there ain't no more left

[Lloyd Banks]
Uhh, damn pops I miss you, see you when I get there
Wish I can tell you you were right cause you ain't missin shit here
Fans turned on me, never thought it'd be this weird
Guess they thought I wouldn't keep up, look how I switched gears
Swung the last ten, I'ma kill 'em the next six years
Tryin to block the pain with the liquor, my niggaz sick scared
R.I.P. to Rasta, salute with the chopper
Remember us, young boys, too loose off the vodka
Smokin like I smoke now, that was part of my intro
Same shit that we used to brush off's hard on my mental
Beast mode, they led me to snap, target my pencil
They been borrowin a while now, countin the years I lent you
I got the block hoppin, and big ass rock coppin
G throwin and top droppin, just know when the cops watchin
these niggaz will not stop 'em, struggle to find a way
From bird's eye jockin I'm puffin a dime a day