Lloyd Banks
You Already Know [Original Version]
[Intro]
Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh!
[Chorus]
You already know
My mind is on my dough
A millionaire that won't spend a dollar on a hoe
I'm still in here tryna get a model out the do'
High blowin' bottle after bottle of that dro
Slidin' on the road, groupie in my vehicle that I don't even know
And If I wasn't Banks shorty probably wouldn't roll
From the Benz to the lobby from the lobby to the do'
If you ain't with the program, ma you got to go
[Verse 1]
I move like it's Po' Po' behind me, cocoa inside me, so cold and grimy
Fo' Fo' beside me, hoes know to find me
Wherever there's money, yeah I'm the shit honey (WOO!!!)
Hood n***a with the rubber band grip money
If I go broke I make you and your man strip dummy
Yeah n***a, you don't want it with them their bigger
Cross us, your on somethin' we bare n***as
Yeah n***a here trigga Teflon chest gone G's up
Freeze up and you'll end up in your lawn
It's the protege of 50, inspired by Biggie
Burns more than Ziggy, them lil' n***as dig me
I been stressed out lately, so I'm smokin' more than ever
Dead smack in the hood good pokin' out my leather
I'm a Good Fella, in a G-Unit hood sweater
If your bitch give me a sign I'm a get her
[Chorus]
You already know
My mind is on my dough
A millionaire that won't spend a dollar on a hoe
I'm still in here tryna get a model out the do'
High blowin' bottle after bottle of that dro
Slidin' on the road, groupie in my vehicle that I don't even know
And If I wasn't Banks shorty probably wouldn't roll
From the Benz to the lobby from the lobby to the do'
If you ain't with the program, ma you got to go
[Verse 2]
Uh! I'm fresh in my two thousand six whip
Cool down with a sick brick fool 'round and get hit
Move down the strip quick, two pounds of drip drip
Smokin' like it's legal, me and my desert eagle (WOO!!!)
All the hoes eyein' when the whip come by flyin'
Got a hustler's ambition to get rich or die tryin'
And that other guy is lyin' he just lookin' he ain't buyin'
He ain't flyin' he ain't cakin' ey'body know he fakin'
I should let the hood bake him but I take him right to Satan
Just for hatin' leave him straight and run him over with a Dayton
And burn rubber like the back tires on the leer
Sapphires in my ear, yeah, that's why they stare
Yeah that's why they glare, I'm icy as it gets
With a white tee and a six, a new wifey in the Ritz
If it's junk in the trunk I pull over and roll a blunt
And I shouldn't have to tell her what I want (Why?)
[Chorus]
You already know
My mind is on my dough
A millionaire that won't spend a dollar on a hoe
I'm still in here tryna get a model out the do'
High blowin' bottle after bottle of that dro
Slidin' on the road, groupie in my vehicle that I don't even know
And If I wasn't Banks shorty probably wouldn't roll
From the Benz to the lobby from the lobby to the do'
If you ain't with the program, ma you got to go