Ready Or Not

[Lloyd Banks]

My rope all freezy, dope on the TV

Ecstasy especially out the GT

You next to me, you best to be holdin somethin too

Least you can say, you let somethin fly when somethin flew

These niggaz get hit and call they lawyer

And try to sue you, that's a bitch nigga for ya

I'm tough like Mayoga, and De La Hoya, I saw ya

Man niggaz'll stack nines for that Cola

Cause zips in my shit, I don't grow stems

Him got 14 karats, carrots, and gold rims

Why say somethin about my name?

Don't jump out the window, it's safer jumpin out a plane

I can't ditch my bitch, it's somethin 'bout her brain

If she put her mind to it she could suck out a vein

You don't want a lead shower stay the fuck out the rain

There's so much ammo niggaz don't gotta aim

[Chorus: Lloyd Banks]

You don't get a warnin, there's no heads up when it's on

Here it comes, ready or not

Don't be out there snorin, one eye blink and you're gone

Keep it cocked - and ready to pop

The man makes no mistakes, it's been on since the day I was born

Stop drop, or get lead in your knot

I'm known in hip-hop, but I'm still ridin around with my chrome

Here it comes - ready or not

[Tony Yayo]

Yeah, yeah

My little shooter's 16 from the projects

Glock-16 with the Napoleon complex

I'm in and out the projects, my lifestyle pleasant

You? You live life like a barbaric peasant

Me without my gun in the streets is like a Muslim eatin pig feet

Fuck the pigs on the street

They all wanna off a nigga - and when these rappers

get shot they ain't gangsta, they turn into corporate niggaz

You die if it's rated R

If it's PG-13 you leave with a scar

R.I.P. to Troy and Bags, big shout to Hommo

They got fishin money cooked, buy me the Apollo

These model hoes swallow, I buy another bottle

of this M.O.B. nigga, that's my motto

These rappers ain't kings, they pawns

And got dust bunnies on they guns

[Chorus]

[Lloyd Banks]

I think God spent a lil' extra time on me

Pop planted a miracle seed my mom ain't see

I got a high intelligence level, I ain't no dummy

I ain't satisfied with 10 mil', that ain't no money

My talents are blood deep, you can't take those from me

And my sense of humor's shot, I don't take jokes funny

My paranoia rolls with my bullet holes

givin me a third eye, my foes can get a magazine full of those

The hip-hop cops follow my Suburban

Hopin they can find a pistol on him when they search him

I'm icier in person, they like me when I'm cursin

So here's a dirty version, you only heard me urban

If niggaz try to hurt him, the I-30's squirtin

Right through your curtain, don't stop 'til you murk him

Mechanical workin, Hechler handle's jerkin

That'll pull the Gate in after you Heavenly church him