Artist: Lloyd Banks Album: Rotten Apple Song: Change Typed by: damez7@gmail.com * * send corrections to the typist [Intro: Lloyd Banks] Yeah.. Uh (Yeah) I like the way that sound Uh Uh N-N-Now (Low Down..) [Verse 1: Lloyd Banks] Check, nigga ya feelin like a frog in a jump One weed will bring you from the bottom the trunk From the trunk to the dump I'ma rain on em, put the chump a slump Like a rib shot, that's what the customers want Don't cha, this ain't the typical story Therefore I don't fall in the category I'm cool calm and collective You con'in a Lexus, blew chronic for breakfast It match with the necklace Nines only down til' the rats wanna check this Reckless, born treacherous warn specialist Especially if you rest next to me Nigga come testin' me, you get the gun recipe (Pop) These old niggaz want the new born sound Actin' like they don't know who holdin' New York down Yeah I used to buy Nick's Ten years later now I'm superfly slick Without a roof on my whip, shit I sip a hundred-proof til' I'm ripped And wave at the haters who got a root canal sick Tell niggaz 'Like to make a scene' so the llama's close That kind of shit don't fly like mumma jokes So they got em long-short, Old kinda toast More out of left shit, trailers all around the coast To places you get around by boat, I get a pound I smoke I put em down them dope I'm real scope when I pass the block I make traffic stop, a prodigal wave thing that make the apple rot This apple jacks, be long before the platinum plaques The pro tools and the wax Take a step back before you catch a contact The flows like an M16 with an arm-strap I'ma bomb on niggaz until they can't bomb back The Hiroshima demeaner, microphone crack [Chorus: Lloyd Banks] All of shit changed since a came Alot came round here, fuckin' up the game Therefore I ain't servin nothin but the pain You playin, I'm hungry than a mahfucker' mayn' Rob a store before you walk around poor Cuz' you ain't gettin' nothin' from me you grown more You fuelin' up the fire when you hate So I'ma lean on ya' til' you make a mistake (I can't wait) [Verse 2: Lloyd Banks] Until the curtains close It's just me and Tony, in them purple O's Indoor overload, Drive like I own the roads These niggaz is pus' that's why my shoulders cold Mac by the toted bow, I'm ridin' filthy in the Beamer' Cuz' I can have Limina Calina bring to a mister meaner You drown in deep water, any nigga around come form the street corner Where you need your heat on ya I'm on the climb, 'til my next CD climbs Southside, Greedy Dine, red wine, DB9, NYPD grind Why, it ain't an easy grind A nigga try to get mine, I'ma feed him nine And it's graffiti time, niggaaz sprayin ya mural For try'na by a motherfuckin' hero I'm fresh, fly and flashy, Best guy if you ask me Jet by on the nasty, nigga you in a taxi (I can't wait) [Chorus: Lloyd Banks] All of shit changed since a came Alot came round here, fuckin' up the game Therefore I ain't servin nothin but the pain You playin, I'm hungry than a mahfucker' mayn' Rob a store before you walk around poor Cuz' you ain't gettin' nothin' from me you grown more You fuelin' up the fire when you hate So I'ma lean on ya' til' you make a mistake (I can't wait) [Outro: Lloyd Banks] Ha-Haa! Yeah! Uh! G-G-G-G-G-G-Unit! Raw!