Show Time (Game Diss) Lyrics – Lloyd Banks
Singer: Lloyd Banks
Title: Show Time (Game Diss)
That’s it!
Hahahahh!
You stupid m#th*rf#ck*r!
Huh?
I’m what you wanna be, n#gg#!
Huh!
Talk that sh#t in front of me, man
You already know what time it is man, it’s the Unit!
Ain’t no one better!
One’s for the money! – Two’s for the groove
I cruise! – On the interstate so smooth
Rather be the rebel, move when I wanna move
30 days straight, 30 pair new of shoes!
Fools! – Feelin’ like they got sh#t to prove
Lose or lose, you do not get to choose
Sparks crackling off the top of my fuse
The rap A-Bomb, so n#gg# stay calm!
The flow’s way gone! – Blue and gray charm
Long firearm, that’ll do way harm
I’m a don! – b#tch lock on!
The “www.ididit.com”!
Tried to ruin ’em! (yeah!) – Now I’m on ’em!
From midnight to morning the kid Michael Jordan
Disappear in thin air the car often
Come to your front door like a orphan!
Breeze in the lot! – Nibble off the auction
Dude’s exhaustion, I brought New York in
You ever seen a walkin’ and talkin’ coffin!
Well, that’s what I see when I see you!
You bumped heads with the OD’er
The overseer; see my chrome millimeter
Either! – You’re just dumb or had too much reefer
Oh, you ain’t with it, well I ain’t with it either!
Just my luck, you slip into a seizure
Rap don’t need ya, slip in cold ether
That’s speak through a filter and get a microphone fever
Big heart, the temperature of the freezer
News flash – NOBODY believes ya!
Bumped your f#ckin’ head! – Developed amnesia
You ain’t me! – Let alone a leader!
Yeah! – You don’t even write your own sh#t!
You feeling hype then go sit
I’ll break off a brick and light the whole strip!
You want attention! – So I’m addressin’ ya
n#gg#, I can wrestle ya, or .38 special ya!
Come Christmas, it gets messier
The rap messy ya, running n#gg#s over!
Yeah, I shine! – Line for line, I
Albert Einstein, pounds of chron chron
That SouthSide b#llsh#t, I’m on it!
Time to make ’em sick, lung full of vomit
That’s what you get when you spar with Muhammad
Cocktail bombs in your car do a comet
The hood made him cover up the butterfly!
Now I’ll make him cover up the other eye!
Cause you ain’t never merked nuttin, that’s another lie
n#gg#, don’t make me, hum you a lullaby!
What’s that, you ain’t got no help now
They left you all alone for your meltdown
You cryin’ in the dark and I knew it
Next time you think about killin’ yourself, do it!
Cause you a – b#tch-ass n#gg# anyway you view it
It ain’t no one from Compton ’til I can’t do it
I’m from a town where they all love fluid
Anybody that can wear a tongue ring can’t talk tough
You ain’t even seeing half of Fif’
You’re only one album in and 50 wrote half of it!
You said you a rider and you thuggin’!
Then you turn around and hug Joe Budden!
Now, either that’s soft or I’m buggin’
That’s what happens when you turn nuttin’ into somethin’
That boy bluffin’, he’ll talk if they cuff him
It’s “All About The Benjamins” and playin’ phone, f#ck him!
Yeah!
That’s it man!
I ain’t finished yet playin’ with your stupid ass, man!
You confused m#th*rf#ck*r!
Hahahahh!
I got a little advice for your #ss too man
Next time you in the room and
You’re all alone… with the light off!
An’-an’- and stuck in the closet!
With your pistol in your mouth!
Thinkin’ about blowing your noodles out, n#gg#’!
Haha!
Just go ahead and do it man, trust me!
You’re better off that way!
You’re not authentic, n#gg#!
You’re a copy!
Faggot!
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Lyrics Lloyd Banks – Show Time (Game Diss)
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