| Song | South Side Story - Album Version (Explicit) |
| Artist | Lloyd Banks |
| Album | The Hunger For More |
| 作曲 : Diaz, Diaz, Lloyd, White | |
| Yeh Yeh Yeh | |
| I done learned from mistakes like who's my man | |
| N' Who's not, like who's gon run and who's not | |
| Like who's gon shoot if you shot | |
| Who gon hold they own, who's not | |
| Who gon change glocks | |
| [Chorus x2] | |
| In the street of new york you can't trust nobody | |
| Niggas'll run up on you with a 12 gauge shoty | |
| Loyalty comes free and smokin' weed is my hobby | |
| You wanna rob me you gotta leave here with a body | |
| [Verse 1: Lloyd Banks] | |
| When I was 10 years old I seen a nigga take 3 in the head | |
| Probably around the same time you use to pee in the bed | |
| I'd stay awake cause my nightmares was seein' him dead | |
| The smell of burnt tires peelin after leavin him lead | |
| The killer fled with a ****in laugh | |
| My heart pumpin on blast | |
| I just stare at him slumped in the grass | |
| Arms movin, fingers shakin, spittin up blood | |
| DNA mixed in the mud, another ditch to be dug | |
| Their I stood stiffer than wood it's the homie that use to buy me candy | |
| Now he's gone who's gonna provide his family | |
| My air bring this shit up n' runnin I never thought I'd be that sick | |
| Damn I wasn't suppose to see that shit | |
| That's when I thought, it was more than 3 shots | |
| It could have been the aimin for me, maybe he circled around the block | |
| I turned around and my pops, he like 'what happened?' | |
| This nigga rolled up and just started clappin', I can still hear him laughin' | |
| [Chorus x2] | |
| In the street of new york you can't trust nobody | |
| Niggas'll run up on you with a 12 gauge shoty | |
| Loyalty comes free and smokin' weed is my hobby | |
| You wanna rob me you gotta leave here with a body | |
| [Verse 2: Lloyd Banks] | |
| It was a regular day in southside, sprinklers n' kids runnin' | |
| And all of a sudden heads turnin', somebody did sumthin | |
| This nigga named, I forgot, **** it he lived around the block | |
| Regular getting' money nigga but loved to clown a lot | |
| Walk across the park stuntin' and frontin' | |
| Diamonds in his ears, diamond watch on, eatin a bag of popcorn | |
| Walked up behind a shorty and grabbin' her waist | |
| She pushed him away | |
| So he threw the bag in her face | |
| She felt disrespected , shorty couldn't accept it | |
| Called him a pussy told him she'd be back in a second | |
| But he ain't payin no mind called her a bitch about 4 times | |
| Stayed in the park, with no niggas with him and no nine | |
| And then in no time an older nigga from behind | |
| Swung a baseball bat | |
| Left his face all crack | |
| Told him to take all that | |
| Hit him again popped his chain with a frown | |
| And left the clown with a stain on the ground | |
| [Chorus x2] | |
| In the street of new york you can't trust nobody | |
| Niggas'll run up on you with a 12 gauge shoty | |
| Loyalty comes free and smokin' weed is my hobby | |
| You wanna rob me you gotta leave here with a body | |
| [Verse 3: Lloyd Banks] | |
| Now all my days go by blowin that sicky icky | |
| California made me picky | |
| Chickenheads tryin' to stick me with a hicky | |
| If we, roll up quickly, stick me, some was tipsy | |
| The location don't matter I'm southside until they hit me | |
| I'd be dead | |
| If looks can kill, I'm from the ghetto boys | |
| But I don't know scarface or Bushwick Bill, My heart spills | |
| For the kids who ain't got nothing and who got to steal, and from my | |
| Cousin I lost, lookd over the steerin wheel | |
| [Chorus x2] | |
| In the street of new york you can't trust nobody | |
| Niggas'll run up on you with a 12 gauge shoty | |
| Loyalty comes free and smokin' weed is my hobby | |
| You wanna rob me you gotta leave here with a body |
| zuò qǔ : Diaz, Diaz, Lloyd, White | |
| Yeh Yeh Yeh | |
| I done learned from mistakes like who' s my man | |
| N' Who' s not, like who' s gon run and who' s not | |
| Like who' s gon shoot if you shot | |
| Who gon hold they own, who' s not | |
| Who gon change glocks | |
| Chorus x2 | |
| In the street of new york you can' t trust nobody | |
| Niggas' ll run up on you with a 12 gauge shoty | |
| Loyalty comes free and smokin' weed is my hobby | |
| You wanna rob me you gotta leave here with a body | |
| Verse 1: Lloyd Banks | |
| When I was 10 years old I seen a nigga take 3 in the head | |
| Probably around the same time you use to pee in the bed | |
| I' d stay awake cause my nightmares was seein' him dead | |
| The smell of burnt tires peelin after leavin him lead | |
| The killer fled with a in laugh | |
| My heart pumpin on blast | |
| I just stare at him slumped in the grass | |
| Arms movin, fingers shakin, spittin up blood | |
| DNA mixed in the mud, another ditch to be dug | |
| Their I stood stiffer than wood it' s the homie that use to buy me candy | |
| Now he' s gone who' s gonna provide his family | |
| My air bring this shit up n' runnin I never thought I' d be that sick | |
| Damn I wasn' t suppose to see that shit | |
| That' s when I thought, it was more than 3 shots | |
| It could have been the aimin for me, maybe he circled around the block | |
| I turned around and my pops, he like ' what happened?' | |
| This nigga rolled up and just started clappin', I can still hear him laughin' | |
| Chorus x2 | |
| In the street of new york you can' t trust nobody | |
| Niggas' ll run up on you with a 12 gauge shoty | |
| Loyalty comes free and smokin' weed is my hobby | |
| You wanna rob me you gotta leave here with a body | |
| Verse 2: Lloyd Banks | |
| It was a regular day in southside, sprinklers n' kids runnin' | |
| And all of a sudden heads turnin', somebody did sumthin | |
| This nigga named, I forgot, it he lived around the block | |
| Regular getting' money nigga but loved to clown a lot | |
| Walk across the park stuntin' and frontin' | |
| Diamonds in his ears, diamond watch on, eatin a bag of popcorn | |
| Walked up behind a shorty and grabbin' her waist | |
| She pushed him away | |
| So he threw the bag in her face | |
| She felt disrespected , shorty couldn' t accept it | |
| Called him a pussy told him she' d be back in a second | |
| But he ain' t payin no mind called her a bitch about 4 times | |
| Stayed in the park, with no niggas with him and no nine | |
| And then in no time an older nigga from behind | |
| Swung a baseball bat | |
| Left his face all crack | |
| Told him to take all that | |
| Hit him again popped his chain with a frown | |
| And left the clown with a stain on the ground | |
| Chorus x2 | |
| In the street of new york you can' t trust nobody | |
| Niggas' ll run up on you with a 12 gauge shoty | |
| Loyalty comes free and smokin' weed is my hobby | |
| You wanna rob me you gotta leave here with a body | |
| Verse 3: Lloyd Banks | |
| Now all my days go by blowin that sicky icky | |
| California made me picky | |
| Chickenheads tryin' to stick me with a hicky | |
| If we, roll up quickly, stick me, some was tipsy | |
| The location don' t matter I' m southside until they hit me | |
| I' d be dead | |
| If looks can kill, I' m from the ghetto boys | |
| But I don' t know scarface or Bushwick Bill, My heart spills | |
| For the kids who ain' t got nothing and who got to steal, and from my | |
| Cousin I lost, lookd over the steerin wheel | |
| Chorus x2 | |
| In the street of new york you can' t trust nobody | |
| Niggas' ll run up on you with a 12 gauge shoty | |
| Loyalty comes free and smokin' weed is my hobby | |
| You wanna rob me you gotta leave here with a body |