"Failure's No Option" lyrics - LLOYD BANKS

LLOYD BANKS

"Failure's No Option"

[Chorus:]
I'ma give 'em hell until I rest in peace
Been through it all, need my respect at least
Who got the bet? Better you bet on me, baby
Made man, America's most wanted lately
So much I want you to see
Feel like I'm boxed in, only wins'll bring the comfort to me
Still ain't no stopping
I'ma wind up on top with the key
Until then they watching
Ain't not rules, gotta play for keeps
Failure's no option

Everybody want the light
I'm like fine you can have this
The top don't mean you're living right, keep your mind on what matters
These hoes don't love you, they rehearsin' all kind of theatrics
Supposed to build each other up but most time it be backwards
Until then we got to wait and pray until they finally catch us
Toe tags, no dads in a county of bastards
Going to need a cape to see our future
You blind and need glasses?
Ten, twenty years rewinding these classics
Let's toast to living our vision
Love the sound of these glasses
Envious bastards off the axis, mahogany caskets
The blocks banging if you survive these harmony flashes
No free passes, just regrets and R.I.P ad-libs
Dearly departed, keep me guarded and all that we ask is
Put a good word in while we hurting and dodging these crashes
And, my position is go hard or get missing
It's like dope and I'm running, the other part of me twitching
Listen...

Attitude like "Fuck it" today
I need chilling and Louie buckets to play
Man keep your outlet, I ain't got nothing to say
Rather stick out than just be stuck in the way
I'm pushing two decades of killing these bars
Here's my parade
Sun don't always shine
Shit get too bright, they throw you shade
I hope you make it there
Top of that, make it from older age
Niggas want you to snap, give it all back
It's sporting rage, bloody contact
Slipping off track, caught in a maze
If I should hang up my number, you'll love me then?
Shit! I wonder, pedal to floors
Still soaring above the rim
Good morning, I'm up to win
Who brought us more less within
A quarter sent out to gems
Six songs without the pen
I gave it all I had and you shot me down
I ain't change, same nigga they copy know
Pay homage, pour out the commas and smile
Outside of the family, can't nobody come near me
I threw it all on my shoulders, foot on the rap game clearly, uh