Song lyrics Banks victory by 50 Cent

[50 Cent]
Yo, yo we canīt stay alive forever
So if shit hit the fan then we might as well die together
Iīm high as ever, more holes and more cheddar
G-Unit move around wit them pounds and berretaīs
Yea faggot, if I want it Iīm gonī have it
Regardless if itīs handed to me or I gotta grab it
Donīt make a ass outta yaself tryin to stop me
Iīm cocky, raps rocky, nigga you sloppy
You know that Iīm, 8 levels above you nigga
Iīll club you nigga, I never heard of you nigga, ugly nigga
Iīm the wrong one to provoke
You rattin on niggas is only gonī leave you smoke
So the only thing left now is tools for these cowrads
I got no friends, fuck most of these cowards
They pop shit ītill we start approaching these cowards
While we lay around dollars, they lay around flowers

[Lloyd Banks]
I got a intergangstress who argue and steams wit reefer
And who flip when I call a bitch like she Queen Latifah
Not all the vehicleīs is long enough to stash the streetsweeper
This shit can get uglier than the Master P sneaker
We slidin through the ruckus, wit prada on the chuckus
Soon as spring break hoīs home from college wanna fuck us
I ainīt here to drop knowledge on you suckas
Iīll sick rottweilerīs on you fuckas, cops followin to cuff us
Top dollars to discuss this, whole lotta zeros
When it comes to paper I blow a soul outta aero
Iīma break before I lay floor berry
Besides, every rapper ainīt a star, nigga plad ainīt bulbary
You canīt tame Lloyd, smokin by the big screen
You changin the channel looks like Iīm playin the game boy
I know to watch botherin ya vision
You reach and Iīll put a dot on ya head like its part of yo religion
Why party wit a pigeon?
Iīm blowin a 10 cuz Bush handin flyers for a party in a prison
Iīm in the gucci vest wit the green and red straps
Iīm the last rapper to scare niggas since Craig Mack
Now every morningīs a fast start
And there aint problem gettin dressed cuz my closet got more aisles than pathmark
Run, move startin a wave
and leave wit 12 shells in ya mouth like a carton of eggs
Iīm the young pimp pardon my age
I donīt got long hair but if I did she be puttin my braids
Niggas find what club they at
take īem wit us, and run a train on īem like a subway mac
get advances from grey agra
see these record labels got most artists gettin fucked like the gay rappaī
i go the college on the tour
Iīm goin down in history nigga, next to Wallace and Shakur
I keep ya ammo clean, text polished in the drawer
Cameraīs by the hamper that mine into the floor
by now, you probably heard of me
fresh outta surgery, flashy as a fuck, you gonī have to murder me
Burglary, Iīm leavin wit cha nikeīs bergendy, White T, bergendy
you match now, back down
niggas love to hate you, but love you when you disappear
catch me on the boat wit weed smoke and fishinī gear
heavy when I toke, C notes from different years
Besly in the robe, re-motes for liftin chairs
You ainīt rich, but we glad to snatch ya
I send cars to crib like Iīm a cab dispatcha
you better off wit ya stupid guys, lookin for a coupe to drive
you ainīt gettin nuttin but ya french fries supersized
itīs a damn shame yīall still local
Iīm in a million dollar studio layin my vocals
Nigga

[50 Cent]
Still in the projects nigga, you ainīt goin nowhere
you gonī fuckin be there for the rest of yo muthafuckin life
and yo momma said, Iīm supposed to tell you somethin.....
to encourage you, somethin positive
aight well I ainīt gonī lie to you muthafucka, he ainīt goin nowhere
get yaself a beer, get on the fuckin curve
fuckin dirtbag