Lyrics Lloyd Banks – Jackpot

Intro: (kid)
Yeah, yeeeaaah!
We ain’t playin’ no games, man; we spend money, nigga!
Haahahahaa-ahh!

Verse 1:
Maaan, I’m just fuckin’ these hooees — like I’m crushin’ these shooows;
100 dollar shoe strings, now I’m bucks for these hooeses!
Look in my eyes and see cloouuds; — I’m puffin’ them O’s, (uhh!)
A three-some ain’t shit! — I need a couple of those. (uhh!)
Mr. Touch-It-When-I-want, POW! Punch her with the rhymes, (rhymes!)
Tell ya girl we said: «Whassup? » (whassup?) — We jump her all the time.
You got next? I got next aaaf-ter, no need to gas her;
She beekin’ up cause I’m a rapper, skeet laughter.
Catch me laughin’ at a bank today, laughin’ at a bank tomor’
I do these niggas like my son. — Ya should thank my father! (uhh!)
I make it rain harder,
I was late and her ass still shakin’ like I hit it with the teaser! (yeah!)
I’m tryna get this money, show me what your mama gave ya! (yeah!)
Appetite is animal, so pardon my behavior. (uhh!)
I split a crowd of bitches at the Garden, I’m the savior (savior!)
Hit after hit. — Knock the heart right outta hater!

Chorus:
Spendin’ is my hobby. (u-huh!) — I’m ballin’, — sorry! (uhh!)
Lately I’ve been havin’ dreams of crushin’ e’rybody! (uh-huuh!)
I’m a see you muthafuckas at the top, (top!)
Then come into my mind, see nothin’ but the guap! (guap!)

They thought this shit was done; but the grind don’t stop! (yeah!)

Verse 2:
I’m the rawest in Queens. — It’s all for the green! (uh-huh!)
The chicks ain’t mine! (naaah!) — They all for the team. (yeah!)
I told her get in the six, — cause they walkin’ to me;
I’m ’bout to murk me a bitch. — White chalk on the scene! (yeeaah!)
Money can’t buy ya style; my style made to be fly (uh-huuuh!)
I’m from the front so far. — My glass facin’ the sky!
She front? She out the same minute! (minute!) — Placin’ fives;
She ain’t dope! — She don’t get digites — or reach my supply.
I’m in the rocket, chasin’ paper. — My ego lead the anker;
Ain’t no way I’m gon’ land this muthafucka unless it’s major!
Mami do me a lil’ favor! — Don’t go catchin’ feelings;
Don’t you go complainin’ cause I’m not used to hearin’!
Uhh! — By 21, I made a million. (million!)
Fast drops in my back drop chillin’. (chillin’!)
Lettin’ niggas see me I don’t pass blocks spillin’ (uh-uuuuh!)
Roll up like a smoker with a bag chopped ceilin’. (ceilin’!)

Chorus

Outro:
Spendin’ is my hobby… sorry!
Crushin’ e’rybody!
Spendin’ is my hobby… sorry!
Crushin’ e’rybody!

Chorus

echoes

beat stops