Artist: Lloyd Banks Album: V6: The Gift (Mixtape) Song: Rise From the Dirt (Intro) Typed by: AZ Lyrics African American accident in America See I'm not supposed to be here Somehow I got the leverage to Wipe my so-called stink off Light my blunt take my mink off Like I'm caught in a maze Crime pays how much that thing cost, shit Give me like 2 then, shit I deserve it Came out of a darker hole than you've been And ain't know my purpose 'til I was laying down & oozin' But feeling all worthless ain't gon' help It helps with losin' Praying I'm in God's eyes Behind these bricks, life's a bitch and she kicks I kicks 'em out, switching bitches like I'm switching these whips I'll sick 'em on you with a flick of the wrist I'm one of the greatest, take a picture of me miss And bring my rose out by the pitcher we rich I gives a fuck bout where they gon' place me give me the dough You out of green then give me the gold I'm doin' my thing & you niggaz owe Traitor bitches tell me sorry kiss the ring and get on the floor I'm consistent when I party bottles low, give me some more Name remove me from the average five, most likely not half as wise My chain bring attention & your in detention mackin wise Miss me with the chatter guy, keep your tool and the magnum by Half of what really matters die, killin' niggaz all swag aside Fortune in my head they thought I was dead I took that fork out Can't let 'em see me fall, I got the ball I took a short route Encores as I walk out, standing ovations the walk in Like Booker T when I'm talking they look at me and see all them Fresh Malcom X I guard the crib with my tall gun Blame the nigga that made 'em daddy's son picked the wrong one Dying is my ultimatum won't be a bum in a long run Powered by all the hating, since a little boy my balls hung Life can hard to handle you try to offer your help but They somewhere in the fight club fucking themselves up They say my opposition would last, but they amateurs My buzz rattled ya we ain't mad at ya, we ain't mad at ya All I got is my word and my D.E., Big Bird I gotta eat playboy I never leave this curb A thousand degrees absurd, phenomenal me I'm heard When I'm in the hood I'm good, NYC I serve Lil boy born cheated, from a man down dream I wake Taking air with a foul smell of disappointment So much love yet so much hate Grey skies, used veins, and white poison Black on black crime for the green man's dollar In time you will enslave yourself Mama pushed too hard will not save faith Will not stop, kill, or fold I'm too strong, hard as a rock soul, inside cold Hardly ever happy, hard times turn humility to homicide One small piece to the pie of genocide Same questions in 21 religions Where will you go, who will, and who isn't Young man rise from the dirt, rise from the dirt Wipe your shirt and go to work Yeah, V6