Artist: Lloyd Banks Album: Hunger For More 2 Song: Make Money * Typed by: kill4747@hotmail.com * UK bonus song [Lloyd Banks] You need it, go get it Seven days committed You need it, go get it Seven days committed, nigga Make money, make money, make money Make money, make money, make money Make money, make money, make money Make money, make money, make money Make money, damn if they goin' take it from me Super swag, bet I get ya naked, honey You know my stump ground, South Jamaica, dummy Ain't no comp round, six or seven acres counting They mad I got in, never shoot or let me do Body full of diamonds, hoppin' out the Bentley coupe Crime high, I'm climbin', the other pockets empty crew Niggas thought I died then, call me "Makaveli Blue" Red and green stripes, diamond ear squares Screaming twin pumps, right off the Lear stairs I give a fuck about a bitch, you a "Care Bear" Heart pumpin', anti-freeze as I stand here Punch a cotto, nightclubs, bunch of photos Run up on me like a dolo when I'm thumping dolo Here's a no-no, bigger dollar signs than low-low Twenty stacks off a Polo when I go on promo [Chorus: Lloyd Banks] Make money, although it don't make me It takes me somewhere you goin' need an AC They chase me, cause my neck is clear as HD You can't see, baby, I'm in money waist deep You should fuck with me, I'mma be that nigga How ya goin' start acting funny when I get bigger? Fuck the awards, I'd rather buy me a Coupe No thing needed, do it all for the loot We here to make money Make money, make money Take money, take money, take money Great money, in and out of state money Weight money, Benjamin's straight money [Lloyd Banks] Flat party, I'm steamrolling everybody Maserati, riding is my kind of hobby White Ferrari, player pressed for pussy, hardly Ain't no probably, she leave I'mma get a doggy Bank's AKA ya got nothing for me Show me thirty, forty more emcees later they will bore me Delivery semi auti, styles I'll never story About a thousand they will call me I'mma different category You playing big, riding round in your family crib Look at your rib, rock boys understand the kid We handle shit, play with me, get your candles lit, smoked Ashes out the window of a brand new six Don't look behind me, move me, you and what army Armed with Armani, Christian Dior whole army You owe me sorry's, making money, living calmly Nicki got me fucking Barbies, cousins and aunts [Chorus: Lloyd Banks] Make money, although it don't make me It takes me somewhere you goin' need an AC They chase me, cause my neck is clear as HD You can't see, baby I'm in money waist deep You should fuck with me, I'mma be that nigga? How ya goin' start acting funny when I get bigger Fuck the awards, I'd rather buy me a coupe No thing needed, do it all for the loot We here to make money Take money, make money Take money, take money, take money Great money, in and out of state money Weight money, Benjamin's straight money [Lloyd Banks] You need it, go get it Seven days committed You need it, go get it Seven days committed, nigga Make money, make money, make money Make money, make money, make money Make money, make money, make money Make money, make money, make money Yeah! If you ain't making no money, move on, nigga! You taking up space! Nigga! Two g's up! Southside on top! Doe Pesci on the beat! Yeah! You need it, go get it Seven days committed You need it, go get it Seven days committed Make money, make money, make money Make money, make money, make money Make money, make money, make money Make money You know!