Lloyd Banks - Sooner Or Later (Die 1 Day) lyrics

rate me

[Intro:]

I know that sooner or later I'm going to meet my maker

[Verse 1: Lloyd Banks]

I never thought in the beginning I would see us fall in the end

Pay a man to paint pictures on the wall of my friends

1990s sins it was all for the [?]

For the rims rims, for the Benz Benz, for the skins

'Fore you talk about money, make a mil first

You [?], either kill me or get killed worse

Your song's in need of a real verse

Son of the man, God feel me like he feel church

And right after speech time, the spark in the street crime

Niggas throwing anything at you except for peace signs

Live by the gun, die by the gun

'Til my time come, I'm a spend time with your son

I can just see them sad when they remind you of them

Them would've did the same thing, looking [?] to the slum

[?]

[Hook: Lloyd Banks]

Why run nigga?

It's gon' come nigga

But 'til the day it does

I'm a hold my shit down, take it in blood

Outsiders get no love

[Verse 2: Raekwon]

Fishing in the swamp, in the deserts lizards sweat

A half a billion fives, two macs, and a ride

They call them [?] co-signed by kings in a rich [?]

Made me 3 mil in a month, pockets [?]

Ferrari still by the project building

[?] I'll, they come out with Uzis and wheels

[?] beef and too much dough

The legion, [?]

Losing money fellas, we won't have that, better grab that

Or don't come back or get [?] at

Me and my vixens in the kitchen

One sucking dick, I paid her ass shots and sent her to [?]

Dons eating calamari, coke in the [?]

Never broke, [?], eat with the godly gods

[?] get with the mob

From [?] to Queens, we wow with the Beams

[Hook]

[Verse 3: Lloyd Banks]

Don't blame me, blame Southside

That's what made me mine

Crazy high, but I spot a traitor out my lazy eye

Ladies spy [?] want to have their baby by

Maybe I'm better off alone, keep me in my zone

Nights roam, white Patron, GT in my chrome

Alien phone home, E.T. in my throne

I achieve what they wanted, eats into they stomach

When your broke time's slow, but your weeks are numbered

And bad news keeps you weak and numb

Like when I lost my old man, dammit threw up the whole weekend son

I should have listened, friends turned foe, it's told so

The fo' fo' make a nigga run like Ochocinco

In my mink-o I'm a protege of pimping

Living for the slipping, [?]

Marijuana shipping, champagne, lobsters, stripping

Getting trained not to listen, maintain pop the clip in

[Hook]