Lloyd Banks
Lloyd Banks
Lloyd Banks & Freddie Gibbs
Lloyd Banks & Roc Marciano
Lloyd Banks & Benny the Butcher
Lloyd Banks
Lloyd Banks & Styles P
Lloyd Banks
Lloyd Banks & Ransom
Lloyd Banks
Lloyd Banks
Lloyd Banks
Lloyd Banks
Lloyd Banks
Lloyd Banks & Sy Ari da Kid
Lloyd Banks
Lloyd Banks & Vado
Lloyd Banks
This whole song is a metaphor for Lloyd Banks' talent as a rapper being preserved for a decade and proving that he still has it despite not actively releasing music.
[Verse 1: Lloyd Banks]
Every song is a homicide, my breath of fresh air is formaldehyde
Just let the album ride, I'm back in the zone, it’s 2009
You on the browser lines, I'm watchin' you niggas with Malcolm eyes
Death from a thousand lines, accurate, don’t need a vouch for mine
This little culture crime sticky patch charging me alkaline
Fuck up your mouth design, predator vision, a falcon flyin'
I'm coming out the climb, Hakeem, Diesel, and Yao combined
All of my outfits shine, heavy on rocks and traction time
Clarity crystal clear, That's how I know a bitch in there
Been coolin', time to stir the pot, Dapper Dan did the kitchenwarе
Now listen here, my mothеrfuckin' business I choose to disappear
Ready, I don't gotta get prepared, this is my rags to riches year
No more fakin' now, you normal facin’ clown
I got better terror to hold your minds than Norman Bates, and now
You don’t wanna shake with the dog, need my paws on the spaceship now
Gotta leave my mark on the town, where they normalize heat and foul, uh
[Chorus: Lloyd Banks]
.44 out the truck (Truck), 'cause round here they don’t give a fuck
I'm all about a buck (Buck), I think it's time we live it up
You shit fresh out of luck, new in Ferragamo buckled up
The coppers wanna cuff us but we got lawyers to rough 'em up
[Verse 2: Benny the Butcher]
Strapped to the tee, a fact that the trappers tap in with me
I spent 2019 putting rappers back on their feet
A stack on the seat I made from pushing crack on the street
But when I drop it’s gon' feel like LeBron back on the East
And y'all suckers be playin', inside the whip is butter pecan
Three boxes from loaf's, get rich again if one of these land
OG with stripes like a bumblebee, I'm humbly sayin'
I get your family kidnapped by waving one of these hands
Yeah, uh huh, niggas talk that gangsta shit until it happen
Come through shootin' backwards
Blew through traffic like the Dukes of Hazard
Yeah, all my hoes exclusive with abusive habits
And me and Blue don't get no passes 'til we see you in action
That's how they take it, as soon as you make it
It hurt 'em worse when you exceed expectations
I'm hearing screams from the graveyard
In my interviews, they tell me, "Explain more"
It's simple, I took a risk and it paid off
Griselda
[Chorus: Lloyd Banks]
.44 out the truck (Truck), 'cause round here they don't give a fuck
I'm all about a buck (Buck), I think it's time we live it up
You shit fresh out of luck, new in Ferragamo buckled up
The coppers wanna cuff us but we got lawyers to rough 'em up
[Verse 3: Lloyd Banks]
Uh, it ain't nothin' as infrareds involved
Stacked up against me, I severed odds
You teachin' who 'bout what? Hang my pic up in your seminars
Carry forever scars, fuck's winning like if you never lost?
.357 laws, take a bear down like Nurmagomedov
Three to four advances get you all some dances
I been a champ, it's just the more I do, the more semantics
You hot shit on your campus, ain't no awkward answers
Stay out of motions, deafen pussies like lupus and cancer
Merchandise that burn up and CDs that trample on
My flawless record made my ego big, need me a amazon
A camera form, they showed my name too long, maybe the cam was wrong
She outta line, you better check her shit, working with fam was warm
18 years old, I was G.O.A.T'in, Bron' with the tats covered
Classic material crumbled up in my scrap bucket
Stumbled onto one of my demos, caught a relapse from it
Born to rise my work 'til this day done made me immortalized
[Chorus: Lloyd Banks]
.44 out the truck (Truck), 'cause round here they don't give a fuck (Yeah)
I'm all about a buck (Buck), I think it's time we live it up
You shit fresh out of luck, Lou' and Ferragamo buckled up
The coppers wanna cuff us but we got lawyers to rough 'em up
Formaldehyde was written by Nothing But M’s & Benny the Butcher & Lloyd Banks.
Formaldehyde was produced by Nothing But M’s.
Lloyd Banks released Formaldehyde on Fri Jun 04 2021.