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Lloyd Banks - Cake Ft 50 Cent Lyrics

Cake Ft. 50 Cent Song Lyrics
Cake Ft. 50 Cent by Lloyd Banks [Lloyd Banks]
I need the cake nigga!
The Unit don't play, we rap but we strapped
Buck got the shotgun, 50 got the Mac
Spider got the sweeper and he dyin to hear it clap
You wont have another birthday (cake) after that
Cuz Yayo got a temper and he don't know how to act
And Ive been gone a winter, but now a nigga back
To get the (money)all the (money)all the(money)all the(money)all the (cake!)

[Verse- LLoyd Banks]
And you mutherfuckas looking like steak
Food on the plate, for the wolves, follow moves,
Don't get moved by the tools, blood'll ooze on ya shoes
Wait!, control ya hate, you aint ridin in them sixes
(Why?), cuz you spendin all ya (cake) on them bitches
I need the bread, lil niggas need christmas
Banks don't rap with a backpack, im in it for the
(money)all the (money)all the(money)all the(money)all the (cake!)

[Verse-50 Cent]
Haha, you heard Banks say it so you know i got the Mac
I'll pull up pull out spray hollows at ya back
I don't give a fuck it's goin down like that
I dun been thru everyhood that niggas gonna rat
In the heart of a victim, murder is monumental
I don't complicate shit kid, i keep it simple
My bullet wounds will tell you a story bout what i been through
Southside trauma, drama with the llamas
I converstate with killers it's usually bout life
Politic with lawness it's usually bout white
Im da posterchild of violence im the boy on the poster
When the shots start to ring out im the boy with the toaster
Yea listen up clicko, i hustle i get dough
You fuckin with a sicko, i spaz let a clip go
Cannon out the rental, beam to ya temple
I squeez blow ya mental, all over ya friends

[Verse-Lloyd Banks]
Me im from the street, we aint nothin sweet
The home of the homi's, there's a body everyweek
Now i don't hear the sirens but they probably on a creep
Plottin to pull me over, plant the (cake) in my jeep
So i'll be skippin cities, 7 states in a week
Cant a mutherfucka breathin and tell me i can't eat
Show me the (money)of the (money)of the(money)of the(money)of the (cake!)
Nigga slowdown pump ya brakes
No mistakes cuz them jakes run the plates
Then ya headed upstate for rollin round with a steak
Nigga start up a beef, and run straight to the cops
You a bitch ass nigga the cup(cake) of the block
Any nigga disrespect the clique gettin shot
Round here niggas get found upside down over the
(money)all the (money)all the(money)all the(money)all the (cake!)