"Toxic" lyrics - LLOYD BANKS

Here to fuck up the winter, just got out November slot
Never put out a filler, still punch through a center block
Firearm in the villa, fuck it let's make December hot
Adamant, hitting birds with the curve, Mercedes Benz the block
Killer receiver runnin with jewelry
I slayed anywhere I lay, hang my jersey up in the telly
Thirty up in the Chevy, trail of guts on a playa's route
Glove when I took a hit, never had a hicky or gave one out
You gotta crew with hand me downers, they ain't killing nothing
Blood suckers draining your room, look at the ceiling sunk in
With everything out on a table, bet my feelings wasn't
Audemar thrills every other deal, new wheels to hug them
Bitches be hawking need a shield when clubbing
Tear you down your building something
Homesick gotta be in the field to function
They owe me meal tickets a half a mill a luncheon
Haters give you energy, snake niggas for steal consumption

[Chorus:]
We gotta make it out the problems next
I took a hit on life the hardest boy you lookin through the eyes of death
I took a up and down denied the rest
I put my work in and out the curtain now my name around the projects
(Uh) you'll never understand it's complex
My niggas known for fucking shit up, avoid the bomb threats
Lost in the system losing my mind next
Out here number one, there ain't a contest

These pussies left a big hole, gangsters plugging the cavity
Volt with the President, he ain't shit but a personality
Peakin in rare form, salute to the version after me
Reflection of my hard times, proof I emerged from tragedy
For every pass you may receive, two turns of agony
Compensating with charm pics, blue steel that sat on me
Stoned in my X-ray ain't a jealous bone
If I ain't got no rap when I see you, why use the telephone?
Pound of grandaddy, can't stuff a better cone
Tick your tint, leather chrome, in and out the terrordome
Don't compare me, those boys will bring home the weird cup
Man, how the fuck you niggas get here? Go get a hair cut
All of you down to critical, I'm getting right to it
Don't do subliminals, the dopest to do it, here in the physical
Label my style criminal, you popping they ain't feelin you
Still riding round town, long stay in the vehicle

[Chorus:]
We gotta make it out the problems next
I took a hit on life the hardest boy you looking through the eyes of death
I took a up and down denied the rest
I put my work in and out the curtain now my name around the projects
(Uh) you'll never understand it's complex
My niggas known for fucking shit up, avoid the bomb threats
Lost in the system losing my mind next
Out here number one, there ain't a contest