Lloyd Banks - Father Time Lyrics

[Intro:]
Yeeah!
I hear you!
Now I'm a make you shut the f*ck up!

[Chorus:]
They see me mov-in'. - They want me to stop - drop
Off the face of Earth but - I'm a make it pop - hot!
These niggas are not - now! - Watch me take my spot - got
Money got - power and respect - baby I just hope

[Bridge: singing]
Times on my siide.
I've been tryyyin' - all my liiife
E-ve-ry blooock - someones dyyyin'.
Always hiiigh! - Here's our liiife. - Come inside! (Uhhhh!)

[Verse 1:]
Energies my ammunition - like AK shells (yes!)
So think about that when you plan on dissin'. - Go straight to hell! (hell!)
Bred to be ballin' since a baby kickin'. - I had to smell. [sniffs]
Brand new money ladies sniffin'. - You take a' L!
I take a shit on rappers horse worth. - Can't die must conquer the world first
Like a monster to media on my beautiful girls search!
High and low; I am no thing you tamper with'
Made the plan you should cancel it, make examples I trample shit!
Drop you here I am cancerous, answer this: "Who can handle this? "
Scandalous! I dismantles these ants and piss on a trucer!
You think I seen the future, how I wam? - Crip recruper! (uh-huh!)
Fire hand! - Wam - became a brand new man, big producer,
Ugh! - Gift from heaven, livin' legend and I come from Queens!
Robbin', leggin',.3-5-7 in my f*ckin' jeans!
Sufferin' and f*cked up schemes, twin Bentleys
Matchin Beamers or a couple beams, try my sentenc-in! (in!)

[Chorus]

[Bridge]

[Verse 2:]
Uhh! - Murdered half of y'all on my mixtapes! - Come rap up in my wrath
Now I'm laughin' look at ya rib cage. - Ya ass been in a slump!
Come blastin I lend ya bitch face, success is what they want
Tongue lashin'll get ya shit sprayed! - Have it how you want!
Blood bath, I'm as sharp as switchblade
You'll be smilin' for life, love flashin', I got the shit made!
Forget where I'm at now, I passed 'em around the 6th grade (yeah!)
Passion for my profession, outlast anyone you could name!
Hood fame got me ridin' in wood grain; look lame Stanten, Harlem to Brooklyn! (Brooklyn!)
They know I'm cooked 'cain, took aim rappin' would bang!
I could change, but this sport ain't a good game; I'm strappin', sir! (sir!)
Back seat in the passenger. ('ger!) - Semi-auto massacre. ('acre!)
Shoppin' while I laugh at ya. - Rappers feed my appetite!
Metaphors'll tackle ya! - These niggas ain't half as nice,
Playboy, in my afterlife - real nigga with' cash and ice!
Drop the bread, pass the dice! - Hope I crack twice! (twice!)

[Chorus]

[Bridge]