Work Magic lyrics

Artist  : Lloyd Banks 
Song : Work Magic



 Send "Work Magic" Ringtone to your Cell 

 (feat. Young Buck)



I'm gon ride, I'm gon ride, they gon ride, we all
gon ride, (yea)

I come from the heart of southside (yea)

Holdin it down for my niggas that died (yea)

I gotta busy bird on my side (yea)

Pop shit and get yo whole mouth wide (yea)



[Verse 1: Lloyd Banks]



Baby had tried to steal off the payroll

Ill have niggas scrappin the skin off the ya face
with the same shit they peal a potato (whoo)

I thank the lord for my blessings and im glad he
gave us the will power and reflexes of larry
davis (ohh)

You dont wanna see my block formin' (uh huh)

Thats a 101 doggs and i dont mean the ones with
the spots on em

Were respected highly

'cause you dont need to practice gymnastics to
catch a body (oh)

Me and moneys like Whitney, next to Bobby (uh
huh)

If i bring all my niggas ill need an extra lobby
(uh huh)

As soon as you aint around jake (jake)

You getcha ass whipped for chips

Now thats the real definition of poundcake

I got the crownsnake

And you can tell when im shoppin 'cause when the
mall stampedin' you'll feel the ground shake

I got a car i only drive on Thursdays (haha)

Im a stunna, banks blows more cake then
birthdays



[Chorus - Lloyd Banks]



Look at here, aint nobody 'round here scared (uh
uh)

I'm headin for the top and im almost there

Oh yeeuh this shiny shit right here

Ill work magic and make you niggas dissappear



Look at here, aint nobody 'round here scared

I'm headin for the top and im almost there

Oh yeeuh this shiny shit right here

Ill work magic and make you niggas dissappear



[Verse 2: Young Buck]



You know how i gets down

This pound hold six rounds

I told you i'd be back bitch

Talk that shit now

You hear that fo fif [.45] sound

Duck when i spit rounds

'cause this aint beverly hills

You in the bricks now

We aint got shit down here but dope and guns for
sell

You get yo head cracked and niggas dont run and
tell

Its like we sell crack get caught head back to
jail

We on that fuck the police shit

We livin in hell

You betta guard yo grill homey

And stand yo ground

These bullets burn

They hit whoevers standin around

I never learn even after i took a couple
shots

I just got me some band-aids and bought a couple
glocks

Had to go on a rampage and hit a couple
blocks

Once they hear that 12-gauge thats when the
trouble stops (boom)

If its beef then im ready to ride

Just come to casheville you can find me on the
southside (mothafucka)



[Chorus]



[Verse 3: Lloyd Banks]



Now i aint from Michigan but im in the Fab 5

You know, Yayo and 50, Buck and Game, You know my
fuckin name

Whether the truck or train

My minds stuck on the grind

'cause sumwhere down the line, alot of suckas
came

Yeahh aint talkin shit

But we can all tell he ass

Jags are black his eyes like the R-Kelly mask
(ah)

You gotta blast me yo (yo)

'cause the louisville will have yo head lookin
like the top of a pistachio

The young gunner with a raspy flow

Got every boyfriend thinkin they girlfriends a
nasty hoe

My heart laughin a small

Maybe its 'cause my grandpop dropped right after
the ball

Banks hops out bulletproof this, bulletproof
that, bulletproofs snorkle when you hot they hawk
you

I got the hood on my shoulda

Chain big as a boulder

The 357 tucka

Mothafucka



[Chorus]



Yeeuhh [laughs]

Muthafucka

Im here.. yeeuh

Lloyd banks

G-G-G-G-G G-Unit!!

Money by any means...nigga