Formaldehyde

Lloyd BanksLloyd Banks 

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Lloyd Banks

Christopher Charles Lloyd (born April 30, 1982), better known by his stage name Lloyd Banks, is an American hip hop recording artist and member of East Coast hip hop group G-Unit along with childhood friends and fellow American rappers 50 Cent and Tony Yayo. Raised in South Jamaica, Queens, he dropped out of high school in 1998. G-Unit released two albums, Beg for Mercy in 2003 and T.O.S. (Terminate on Sight) in 2008. Banks released his first solo album The Hunger for More in 2004 with the top ten hit single "On Fire". He followed with Rotten Apple in 2006 and left Interscope Records 2009. In 2010 G-Unit signed with EMI to distribute Banks third studio album H.F.M. 2 (Hunger for More 2), which was released on November 22, 2010. more »

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Every song is a homicide
My breath of fresh air is formaldehyde
Just let the album ride
I'm back in the zone, it's 2009
You on the browser lines
I'm watchin' you niggas with Malcolm eyes
Death from a thousand lines
Accurate, don't need to vouch for mine
This little culture crime sticky pack, chargin' me alkaline
F*ck up your mouth design
Predator vision, a falcon flyin'
I'm comin' out to climb
Hakeem, Diesel, and Yao combined
All of my outfits shine
Heavy on rocks and platinum time clarity crystal clear
That's how I know a picture near
Been coolin', time to stir the pot
Dapper Dan did the kitchenware, now listen here
My motherfuckin' business I choose to disappear
Ready, don't gotta get prepared
This is my rags to riches year
No more fakin' now, you normal facin' clown
I got better terror to hold your minds than Norman Bates
And now you don't wanna shake with the dog
Need my paws on the spaceship now
Gotta leave my mark on the town
Where they normalize hate and foul, uh

.44 out the truck (truck)
'Cause 'round here they don't give a f*ck (yeah)
I'm all about a buck (buck)
I think it's time we live it up
You shit fresh out of luck (luck)
Lou' and Ferragamo buckled up
The coppers wanna cuff us (yeah)
But we got lawyers to rough 'em up

Strapped to the tee, a fact that the trappers tap in with me
I spent 2019 puttin' rappers back on their feet
A stack on the seat I made from pushin' crack on the street
But when I drop it's gon' feel like LeBron back on the East
And y'all suckers be playin', inside the whip is butter pecan
Three boxes from Locs, we rich again if one of these land
OG with stripes like a bumblebee, I'm humbly sayin'
I get your family kidnapped by wavin' one of these hands
Yeah, uh-huh, niggas talk that gangsta shit until it happen
Come through shootin' backwards
Blew through traffic like the Dukes of Hazard
Yeah, all my hoes exclusive with abusive habits
And me and Blue don't get no passes 'til we see you in action
That's how they take it, as soon as you make it
It hurt 'em worse when you exceed expectations
I'm hearin' screams from the graveyard
In my interviews, they tell me, "Explain more"
It's simple, I took a risk and it paid off
Griselda

.44 out the truck (truck)
'Cause 'round here they don't give a f*ck
I'm all about a buck (buck)
I think it's time we live it up
You shit fresh out of luck
Lou' and Ferragamo buckled up
The coppers wanna cuff us
But we got lawyers to rough 'em up

Uh, when I'm huntin' there's infrareds involved
Stacked up against me, I severed odds
You teachin' who 'bout what? Hang my pic up in your seminars
Carry forever scars, f*ck's winnin' like if you never lost?
.357 laws, take a beard down like I'm lettin' them off
Three to four advances get you all some dances
I been a champ, it's just the more I do, the more semantics
You hot shit on your campus, ain't no awkward answers
Stay out of motions, deafen pussies like Newports and cancer
Merchandise to burn up and CDs to trample on
My flawless record made my ego big, need me a amazon
They can't reform, they shunned my name too long, maybe the panel's wrong
She outta line, you better check her, shit workin' the fan was warm
Eighteen years old, I was golden brown with the tats covered
Classic material crumbled up in my scrap bucket
Stumbled on one of my demos, caught a relapse from it
Born to rise my work 'til this day, it made me immortalized

.44 out the truck (truck)
'Cause 'round here they don't give a f*ck
I'm all about a buck (buck)
I think it's time we live it up
You shit fresh out of luck
Lou' and Ferragamo buckled up
The coppers wanna cuff us
But we got lawyers to rough 'em up

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