You Know The Deal

Lloyd Banks

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    Ay I'm focused now, they notice now
    Shorty to ride with me you got to hold this down
    But you ain't got to worry 'cause we run this town
    A nigga run up on me will get his ass gunned down
    You know the deal, it's all about a Dollar Bill
    You know the deal, it's all about a Dollar Bill
    You know the deal, it's all about a Dollar Bill
    You know for reals, the only way that I can chill

    Uh, niggas won't understand 'til they man fall
    From a exit wound big as a handball, damn y'all
    Can a nigga spend a mill for a house on the hill as tall as a Ferris wheel?
    Niggas better chill - for the Barretta peel
    Knock off your head and ill, whole bunch of red'll spill
    Nigga I'm rollin' up, system blowin', hater's glowin' up - frozen up
    Range Rover truck color Coconut
    I used to be broke ass fuck, 'til I woke 'em up
    I'll show you how to stroke a slut, get in her throat and gut
    Then it's back to postin' up, wheels pokin' out
    Smoke about enough to have you gaspin' and chokin' out
    I do what I wanna when I wanna ball when it's summer
    Leave out the club, squeeze 'em all in the Hummer
    Stitching in the seats, interior Peanut Butter
    Brand new Pelle Pelle, Nine-millimeter under

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    Uh, Banks is back yeah the punchline boy
    You've got to be a millionaire to touch my toy
    I figured, I'll let the haters see it one more time
    I skeet off zero to sixty in three-point-nine
    Besides, I gotta make the jewellery store on time
    I look like I bought the jewellery store this time
    And it's hard to live like a Rap Star on the cover
    I got three Magnums the gun, car, and the rubber
    I got a fur fetish, a three-quarter cut habit
    Nigga that ain't chinchilla, it's plucked parrot
    Part rabbit, go find your heart faggot
    I prey niggas find your foot and toe tag it
    There ain't never a drought, I got the sour on tour
    So raw I gotta hotel towel on the door
    Hoes all around the hotel pilled to the floor
    They done followed your boss since two-thousand and four

    From here on out it's manslaughter for the masses
    And classics courtesy of Mr. Mathers
    You bastards heard of me I get the cash
    It's the American way I go to bed with the 'K
    I got red, blue and white don't even ask about ice
    I look like a cop car flashin' his lights
    All he want to do is chit chat and make tapes about him
    'Til they lost like Malcolm before the Nation got him
    Out in timbaland tearing the coup, my wrist chunky like Campbells soup
    Niggas shoot, I done been around the world
    And I'm right here you won't hurt me
    I'll put your ass on ice yeah cold turkey
    I'm blowin' Purple the Haze mixed with Hershey
    I done gave you style, now reimburse me
    And it ain't no more love you get the Birdie
    I'ma be in the number one spot 'til I'm thirty

    Song details

    Composition: Lloyd Banks, Johnathon Roy Whitton, and Product Aka Bangbang

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