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On Fire by Lloyd Banksالقصائد الغناءيه -текстове на песни -texty -paroles -στίχοι -गीतletras -songteksten -тексты песен -versuri -tekst utworu -testi -the text of the song - - نص الاغنيةтекста на песента -tekst pjesme -text písně -teksten til sangen -teksti, laulu -le texte de la chanson -το κείμενο του τραγουδιού -पाठ के गीतEl texto de la canción -de tekst van het lied -der Text des Liedes -teksten til sangen -o texto da canção -Текст песни -textul de la piesa -Texten till låten -il testo della canzone

On Fire by Lloyd Banks

     

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* first single; send corrections to the typist

[Intro - Lloyd Banks]
New York City!
You are now rocking with the best
Lloyd Banks! G Unit!

[Chorus - 50 Cent] (Lloyd Banks)
We on fire - up in here
It's burning hot, we on fire
She'll take it off, if it get too hot
Up in this spot, we on fire
Tear the roof off this motherfucker
Light the roof on fire (Uh! Nigga what you say?!)
We get loose in this motherfucker
Light the roof on fire fire fire

[Verse - Lloyd Banks]
Naw I ain't putting nothing out, I smoke when I want to
26 inch chrome spokes on the Hummer
This heat gon last for the whole summer
Running your bitch faster then the Road Runner
Rocks on my wrist, rose gold under
Glocks on my hip, those throw thunder
I'm riding Dalvins by the pier
But when you stop, the only thing still spinning is your ear
Yeah, I'm riding with that all black snub
Raiders cap back, all black gloves
A ladies man, but the boy smack thugs
These record sales equal more back rubs
Not to mention the boy pack clubs
His impacts about as raw as crack was
Now all these new artists getting wrong deals
I'm only 21, sitting on mills

[Chorus]

[Verse - Lloyd Banks]
If you know anything about me, then you know I'm a baller
If I don't hit the first night, I ain't gon call her
I'm trying to play, you trying to have my daughter
But I can't blame her for what her momma taught her
And I don't care bout what the next nigga bought her
Cause I ain't putting no baguettes in her abuela
I got a diamond about as clear as water
And I got bread, but I ain't spend a quarter
So cut the games ma, let's go in the back
Matter fact, turn your ass round, back a nigga down
And I ain't bias when I'm riding through the town
Like em small, like em tall, like em black, like em brown
She gotta be able to cum when I need her
Tight ass pants, little wife beater
Regular chick or R&B diva
Bitch say something, I ain't a mind reader

[Chorus]

Writer : SCOTT, TYRONE/CANNON, KEVIN/COVERT, DUANE/JACKSON, DANIEL
Copyright : Lyrics © EMI Music Publishing, Universal Music Publishing Group

These lyrics are not available for printing.


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