Father Time Songtext
von Lloyd Banks

Yeah, I hear you
And I′m a make you shut the fuck up

They see me movin'
They want me to stop drop
Off the face of earth
But I′m a make it pop hot

These niggaz are not, not
Watch me take my spot got
Money got power and respect
Baby, I just hope times on my side

I've been tryin' all my life
Every block some ones dyin′
Always high here′s our life
Come inside

Energies my ammunition
Like AK shells
So think about that when you plan on dissin'
Go straight to hell


Bred to be ballin′ since a baby kickin'
I had the smell
Brand new money ladies sniffin′
They 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 u 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 dismantle these ants
And piss on a trucer

You think I seen the future
How I wam crip recruper
Fire hand
Wam became a brand new man, big producer

Gift from heaven
Livin′ legend and I come from queens
Robbin' leggin' 3-5-7 in my fuckin′ jeans


Sufferin′ and fucked up schemes
Twin Bentleys
Matchin' Beamers on a couple beams
Try my sentence in

They see me movin′
They want me to stop drop
Off the face of earth
But I'm a make it pop hot

These niggas are not, not
Watch me take my spot got
Money got power and respect
Baby, I just hope times on my side

I′ve been tryin' all my life
Every block some ones dyin′
Always high here's our life
Come inside

Murdered half of ya'll on my mix tapes
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
Passion for my profession
Outlast anyone you could name

Hood fame got me ridin′ in wood grain
Look lame Stanten, Harlem to 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
Back seat in the passenger
Semi-auto massacre

Shoppin' while I laugh at ya
Rappers feed my appetite
Metaphors will tackle ya
These niggaz 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

They see me movin'
They want me to stop drop
Off the face of earth
But I'm a make it pop hot

These niggaz are not, not
Watch me take my spot got
Money got power and respect
Baby, I just hope times on my side

I′ve been tryin′ all my life
Every block some ones dyin'
Always high here′s our life
Come inside