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letra de celebrity (remix) - lloyd banks

[verse 1 – lloyd banks]
i just touched down – ferrari-to-concrete
i ain’t even home when they’re talking about me
f-ck out my ear if you talking about “free”
n-gga, free don’t pay the bills
i’m ballin all-out, b
these rappers don’t know me
nah, i ain’t your homey
if your name ain’t em, ferrari or tony
i like my wheel chromey
my bentley, my rolly
my magnum, my phonie
south jamaica shawty
these slugs i took in the gut, yo
the work’s still here, i’m just cooking it up slow
clear my mind and whipping the truck low
you’re looking for trouble
i pop death
you’re looking to a sun dawg
if rap ain’t work, i be pimpin’ on some ho
still eating lobster and shrimp in the bungalow
i’m back like crack over the drum roll
you know – wherever i go the gun go

[hook – akon]
we on the grind
all the time
ain’t ’bout to let a n-gga come and sn-tch mine
i keep a nine
to see the shine
i might let your -ss slide this time
while i get this paper

cause i’m a celebrity
ghetto-celebrity
ain’t nothing changed n-gga

[verse 2 – lloyd banks]
the media will test ya, popularity is pressure
porche panamera platinum, hammer through the metal
wreck a booth up, i’m too tough
that inner-city grammar, step your jewels up
they bruised up, i’ll sparkle for the camera
harsh reality’s what pulls them
and holding them back from opening
verbal attack all over these n-ggas
push the herd to the back
i’m the kind that they prey on
spending half of they day on
lay on n-ggas for days, the shots spray on
my sound system knock and it pound 2pac
6 4 jumping like the ground too hot
they spot me, they chase a n-gga down two blocks
two shots in the air for n-ggas that ain’t here
two tone, two door, grey top, blue floor
green guap galore, in and out of new hall
that bright light you saw was a paparazzi flash
i’m tryna snap a picture through your maserati gl-ss

[hook – akon]
we on the grind
all the time
ain’t ’bout to let a n-gga come and sn-tch mine
i keep a nine
to see the shine
i might let your -ss slide this time
while i get this paper

cause i’m a celebrity
ghetto-celebrity
ain’t nothing changed n-gga

[verse 3: eminem]
there are enough insults in my head to fill up a swear jar
and have it overflowing
so don’t get me going: don’t dare start
you’ll never see me again: amelia earhart
i’m popping a wheelie, off to a really unfair start
i’m past grinding, for me – guess i just be grounded up
like ground round or a pound of chuck
tightly-wound as f-ck
till the fire marshalls come shut
fire marshall down and up
i suggest you better shut the f-ck up
and stop f-cking around and duck!
i ain’t playing this time, i told you i’m out for blood
so to say i “keep it 100” would probably sound redundant
like calling a b-tch a ho or asking a gal to suck
and blow on your d-ck c-ck. is she up to scr-w-ng? down to f-ck?
it’s a man’s world and i’m trapped in a land of sm-t
with a thousand sl-ts strapped and muzzled
running through a house of mutts
in other words, i’m shutting every one of you b-tches’ mouths up
and i’m watching my language if i tell you to kiss my f-cking b-tt!
and ain’t sh-t changed, my sh-t still don’t stink, player
my farts may have gotten staler ever since
i became a trailer park celebrity
maybe my complexion became a little paler
poster child for white trash
i’m a garbage pail kid sailor, yeah
see me i’m all up on your b-tch means i’mma rape her
all i got for these hoes is d-ck, duct tape and a stapler
so b-tch, you better look for table scr-ps to scr-pe up
i don’t subscribe to the news or the free press
but homie, i get the paper!

…f-cking stupid

- lloyd banks

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