50 Cent & Raphael Saadiq & Tony Yayo & Lloyd Banks
50 Cent & Tony Yayo
50 Cent & Lloyd Banks
50 Cent
50 Cent
50 Cent & Tony Yayo & Lloyd Banks
50 Cent & Lloyd Banks
50 Cent & Tony Yayo
50 Cent & DJ Clue
G-Unit & U.T.P
50 Cent
50 Cent & Tony Yayo & Hope
50 Cent & Lloyd Banks
50 Cent
50 Cent & Lloyd Banks & Tony Yayo
50 Cent & Tony Yayo & Lloyd Banks
This song uses the beat from Jay-Z’s song “Breathe Easy (Lyrical Exercise)”
Tony Yayo had used this same beat in his “Lyrical Exercise (Freestyle)” from the mixtape 134 + B.T.B Present: DJ Roughandz 134 Allstrz
[Chorus: 50 Cent]
I hear a lot of talkin'
Niggas must be mad at Banks
But there's only one problem
Niggas ain't as bad as Banks
Nigga, youse front, you gon' get shot down
We fend to pump crack at your spot now
G-Unit! Nigga, ain't nothin' change
You move, I'll blow your brains
[Verse: Lloyd Banks & 50 Cent]
These niggas don't really want war (nah)
They just walk around frontin' 'cause I walk around stuntin'
Why you think the long pump is in the trunk for? (Yeah)
If you really want something, we can show up at your front door
I know my history—my family tree done said "master" (Uh-huh)
And fuck livin' positive 'cause negativity spreads faster (Yeah)
A celebrity has to bulletproof his car
'Cause big-heads come flyin' through your door like Casper (Woo)
I'm smokin' out the jar (Jar) scopin' out the bar
Distracted—see shorty' breast pokin' out the bra (Uh-huh)
Not the type to go spark metal and—
Start thinkin' you gangsta 'cause you hit a parked yellow van (Yeah)
Act hard but your heart made of marshmallows, man
Talk tough until you get cuffed and start tellin'—damn
Every day, I got a new bitch, and when I'm done with her—
It'll look like she dived headfirst into Cool Whip (Goddamn)
You only gon wind up dead tryna prove shit
I put chalk around your head like a pool stick (Yeah)
I gotta have bucks on the waist
I'm hungry like a South African with flies stuck to his face (Waa)
Catch Banks in a truck full of bass (Uh-huh)
Remember, I'm a bachelor—the four or five ducks gotta space
You could either get bust or get your ass jumped
The only trigger you touch is on the gas pump
I got my own personal slave—she really got a curfew
Cook and clean for the kid like Celie in "Color Purple" (Uh-huh, uh)
I know you wanna pop me, but— (But)
If I hit you first, the exit wound gon' be the size of a hockey puck (Ah)
Fuck, I really hold the rubber
I send sparks at you, and I don't mean Omillio or Bubba
I'm aimin' for a video or cover, huge tour-buses
A pound and a Philly, hold the smuggler
G-Unit's what's up right now
The Gucci cloth is on a Newport sign upside-down
You gotta come a lil' harder—nigga, you wear jerseys?
Well, mine is a throwback, and yours is a Starter (Hahaha)
You still gotta beg a ho (Ho)
And you mad 'cause you blowin' on oregano
You niggas'll never blow
Anyone to step in my ring is brave
I don't know a thing about hairstyling, but I can make a finger weave (Err)
Short stay, leave her butt in the telly
Lace up the beef-and-broccolis, peanut butter-and-jelly
I'm about to get this deal (Uh-huh), and shorty know
Thats why she foamin' out the grill like a Alka-Seltzer pill
I ain't loud around a snitch (Nah), I don't crowd around a bitch (Nah)
The jumpsuit match with the Carolina kicks
I been sick since niggas was on Harold Miner's dick
I could call up a chick and put a child around her lips (Woo)
Niggas can't stand the fact that I'm real (He's off, nigga)
I kidnap the queen from the castle and put her back on the pill
Gimme Barbie at her best (Uh-huh), Bacardi at the chest (Uh-huh)
I'm similar to the young Marcus Garvey at the desk
Used to have to push up; now, I hardly got to press
Got two guns, and both lead to cardiac arrest (Ugh)
My success got suckers salty (Salty)
Blowin' steam like a cup of coffee
Click, pow! Get these fuckers off me
[Chorus: 50 Cent]
I hear a lot of talkin'
Niggas must be mad at Banks
But there's only one problem
Niggas ain't as bad as Banks
Nigga, youse front, you gon' get shot down (Shot, nigga)
We finna pump crack at your spot now
G-Unit! Nigga, ain't nuttin change
You move, I'll blow your brains
[Outro: 50 Cent]
Yeah!
Lloyd Banks, nigga!
What's up, nigga?
It's 50, nigga!
You fuckin' wit him, right?
I know you fuckin' wit him 'cause I said you'd fuckin' wit him! That's my baby right there, that's my boy right there, my young nigga
What's up nigga?
The fuck!
I hear niggas hollerin that
"Keep it real" and all that, nigga!
Nigga, nigga talkin' all that gangsta shit!
Nigga, we get it poppin', nigga!
What's up, nigga?
Anytime nigga, I don't give a fuck if it's 4 in the afternoon, nigga!
Anywhere you see me, nigga!
Let's go!
The Banks Workout was written by 50 Cent & Lloyd Banks.
The Banks Workout was produced by Just Blaze.
50 Cent released The Banks Workout on Sat Jun 01 2002.