(Intro: Lloyd Banks)
|
These niggas wanna see me, cause of the way I shine
|
But it ain't that easy, to get mine, you get your ass lay down
|
|
(Hook)
|
The paint is peeling, when the chips are down
|
You gotta lose all feeling, your head goes round and round
|
|
(Verse: Lloyd Banks)
|
Funny how the world revolves around my click
|
Cause just a year ago, nigga ain't had shit
|
Me and my right hand share the same outfit
|
Which fuels the fire that I ear to game outwit
|
It's amazing the way the boy came up so quick
|
But that platinum niggas will blow your brain out, shit
|
I'm the new nigga the others can't stand
|
The rubber band man, be god damned if I can
|
Let another nigga feel my spot
|
If a nigga steal from me, it's the steel I pop
|
I'm on my grind, so if you thought I chill I'm not
|
Won't stop letting the steering wheel peel the block
|
|
(Hook x2)
|
The paint is peeling, when the chips are down
|
You gotta lose all feeling, your head goes round and round
|
|
(Verse: The Game)
|
Banks, they think I'm Yayo's replacement
|
Nah, I borrowed his G-Units to walk through the matrix
|
I'm signed to the doctor, and I ain't got no patience
|
So he put me with 50 cent, now I got a face-lift
|
Magazines wanna know, where the fuck L.A. been
|
Almost died in the same car Suge got grazed in
|
2001, I was playing my PlayStation and
|
You heard 9 shots, I'm faced down with my heart pacing
|
All I could think about was had my guns and my drugs in the basement
|
It was either that or the state pen
|
I woke up of the coma, police waiting for a statement
|
|
(Hook x2)
|
The paint is peeling, when the chips are down
|
You gotta lose all feeling, your head goes round and round
|
|
(Verse)
|
Pass the weed, let a nigga get into his zone
|
Poppa left me all alone in the world to roam
|
But now I'm grown millionaires in my cell phone
|
A year past now god did, and L gone
|
And I¡¯m sick, bought a chopper with a long clip,
|
So think about that before you make ya songs, dick
|
Or lose a limb, please don¡¯t get me confused with him,
|
Cuz I¡¯m down to go a whole round, lose or win
|
If I should die, ride a G through the hood with pride
|
Every strip block the projects is on my side
|
A ghetto's gone by the hundred grand on my arm
|
Sick boxing never hundred grand on my charm, you broke nigga
|
|
(Hook x2)
|
The paint is peeling, when the chips are down
|
You gotta lose all feeling, your head goes round and round
|
|
-----------------
|
When The Chips Are Down
|
The Game |