Lloyd Banks Cover Me Lyrics
Cover Me by Lloyd Banks
My 'do the rap scene
This the shit they doing now erasing my bad dream
It's bright and early this morning, smelling my caffeine
Steady traces of cream where I was last seen
I lift the rigor with my harden soul
Middle south side, hard to find a darker hole
Rolling stone'everything I hit, hit one every day
Kick my single shit, old school flashing, I'm waiting on the darker day
Running my views clash, I touch 100 hustle weight
'I sound like a new nigga, they marking on me
Your homie people doing bad, in need of extra plate
All the follow good directions when you section 8
'Father, bless the weak, cut the blood out of that corner, how the question flick
Nigga, what you got? Throw it all in the pot
Write it then turn the look, now we cooking
Can't stop, we shook them, barely drop
Speeding against the clock
We done do all the seasons, no reason, mean what you brought
Everybody keep it real, how's that?
Gucci sweaters cover up the holes in my back
The devil want me caught up in this trap
Gucci sweaters cover up the holes in my back
I begin weaker than lot 'cause I'm dancing with the devil
And seeing demons a lot 'God smoke pot
My heart pump hard shit, my mind's in a knot
That's the champagne, cognac, wine and the pop
Was I blind 'cause I love the dope line on the block
Or just dollar bills, a Humvy, fresh clothes and dig shit
Loud pains roam when you can hear it from a distance
A noose follow the smoke with my ears on the shipment
Eyes on the street but my brain's on the game
As I take to a body as it glides from a plane
Pretty fly but I can stay dry in the rain, you run from it, I sorta rely on the pain
And the banks just like my nigga Lloyd
All my free boys shit tryna get it like Floyd
Nigga, what you got? Throw it all in the pot
Write it then turn the look, now we cooking
Can't stop, we shook them, barely drop
Speeding against the clock
We done do all the seasons, no reason, mean what you brought
Everybody keep it real, how's that?
Gucci sweaters cover up the holes in my back
The devil want me caught up in this trap
Gucci sweaters cover up the holes in my back
I give a fuck about the TV keeping
I get better with time, my CD sequels
Before my time you couldn't see me sleeping
Ball any fucking where, keep my pretty weeping
You need ' my bitches keep it regular, my mind is super
I've got them bending, learn my Kama Sutra
Balling on exotics, mister diamond future
This ain't a sprint, you need a lot of years
You getting money but nobody cares
You try to make it, put aside your fears
Don't nothing hurt more than your momma tears
My homie here, you can rest your wings
Shit was hard, gotta be somebody '
Put my body next to the rest of the king's killers
That's what effort brings, time to f the world, have the Hefner rings
Nigga, what you got? Throw it all in the pot
Write it then turn the look, now we cooking
Can't stop, we shook them, barely drop
Speeding against the clock
We done do all the seasons, no reason, mean what you brought
Everybody keep it real, how's that?
Gucci sweaters cover up the holes in my back
The devil want me caught up in this trap
Gucci sweaters cover up the holes in my back
This the shit they doing now erasing my bad dream
It's bright and early this morning, smelling my caffeine
Steady traces of cream where I was last seen
I lift the rigor with my harden soul
Middle south side, hard to find a darker hole
Rolling stone'everything I hit, hit one every day
Kick my single shit, old school flashing, I'm waiting on the darker day
Running my views clash, I touch 100 hustle weight
'I sound like a new nigga, they marking on me
Your homie people doing bad, in need of extra plate
All the follow good directions when you section 8
'Father, bless the weak, cut the blood out of that corner, how the question flick
Nigga, what you got? Throw it all in the pot
Write it then turn the look, now we cooking
Can't stop, we shook them, barely drop
Speeding against the clock
We done do all the seasons, no reason, mean what you brought
Everybody keep it real, how's that?
Gucci sweaters cover up the holes in my back
The devil want me caught up in this trap
Gucci sweaters cover up the holes in my back
I begin weaker than lot 'cause I'm dancing with the devil
And seeing demons a lot 'God smoke pot
My heart pump hard shit, my mind's in a knot
That's the champagne, cognac, wine and the pop
Was I blind 'cause I love the dope line on the block
Or just dollar bills, a Humvy, fresh clothes and dig shit
Loud pains roam when you can hear it from a distance
A noose follow the smoke with my ears on the shipment
Eyes on the street but my brain's on the game
As I take to a body as it glides from a plane
Pretty fly but I can stay dry in the rain, you run from it, I sorta rely on the pain
And the banks just like my nigga Lloyd
All my free boys shit tryna get it like Floyd
Nigga, what you got? Throw it all in the pot
Write it then turn the look, now we cooking
Can't stop, we shook them, barely drop
Speeding against the clock
We done do all the seasons, no reason, mean what you brought
Everybody keep it real, how's that?
Gucci sweaters cover up the holes in my back
The devil want me caught up in this trap
Gucci sweaters cover up the holes in my back
I give a fuck about the TV keeping
I get better with time, my CD sequels
Before my time you couldn't see me sleeping
Ball any fucking where, keep my pretty weeping
You need ' my bitches keep it regular, my mind is super
I've got them bending, learn my Kama Sutra
Balling on exotics, mister diamond future
This ain't a sprint, you need a lot of years
You getting money but nobody cares
You try to make it, put aside your fears
Don't nothing hurt more than your momma tears
My homie here, you can rest your wings
Shit was hard, gotta be somebody '
Put my body next to the rest of the king's killers
That's what effort brings, time to f the world, have the Hefner rings
Nigga, what you got? Throw it all in the pot
Write it then turn the look, now we cooking
Can't stop, we shook them, barely drop
Speeding against the clock
We done do all the seasons, no reason, mean what you brought
Everybody keep it real, how's that?
Gucci sweaters cover up the holes in my back
The devil want me caught up in this trap
Gucci sweaters cover up the holes in my back