This is a song about "Lloyd banks"

Trying to get you hot and wet you know jacuzzi that shit

Banks fail and get billion-dollar bail-outs, it's sad to call it,

You heard banks was crackin skulls

We race foreign cars, custom models

Bitches don't clap with their hands, so i do not talk to my hands

States the fate of an artist bent on brooklyn banks/

This is known as a classic, yeah that chapped lips crack shit

Decides everything, the wall street banks, no they're loving it,

Dope enough to snort crack and sit the fuck still

Im out here trying to fill up banks like uncle phil

I'm on the stage, you in the stands

The river of death has brimmed his banks

This bitch is badi dream of pockets full of bands

Like im a male nurse, check my purse, you know i got big banks,