Song Title

Lloyd Banks– Start It Up Lyrics (feat. Kanye West)

Lloyd Banks– Start It Up Lyrics (feat. Kanye West)

[Kanye West]
What you gon do?
It’s GOOD Music and G-Unit
Ugh
Banks
Loso

[Swizz Beatz]
Ladies and Gentleman
You know they made cause cause cause I’m hood rich
You never ever seen good trick
You want a problem,
Start it up (vroom vroom)
Start it up (vroom vroom)
Start it up (vroom vroom)
Wait a minute

[Lloyd Banks]
Big blue, cotton city shoe
Cotton candy coupe
Hard knock, orphan Annie loop
Off the stoop
Play with me, see what the screamy do
My canary shoe,
High beems pointed right at you, peek-a-boo
Benji paper made me hater-proof
All your thing reduce
Menage a trois, purple haze and goose, got me loose
Kick my way in and now I got the juice, Gucci bubble boots
Thousand kicks couple hundred boots gettin flew
My top down, I’m flashing on em
I’m passing all them, pullover and hit the hazards on em
The ratchets on ‘em, wanna pay my dues, now it’s back to ballin
The raps a boring dead man, I dip the casket for em
I’m back performing, I bag em
Break their back, don’t call em
Look down on em like Dikembe, Patrick, Mourning
Cash is pourin’
Stunt stormin, go this out
Camera phones capture everything that pictures dont.

[Swizz Beatz]
You know they mad cause cause cause I’m hood rich
You aint never ever seen good trick
You want a problem,
Start it up (vroom vroom)
Start it up (vroom vroom)
Start it up (vroom vroom)
Wait a minute
(repeated)

[Kanye West]
We keep these G’s in an alloy safe
And stash the weed in an altoids case
They say good things come to those who wait
So I’m gon be at least an hour late
I’m so fresh I should be arrested
New Tody Chester with my nuts on your chest b-tch
She said “hey ‘Ye”
I said “Yes B-tch”
Damn I’m only asking you a question
I met this milf at the allstar getting action
A cougar with more rings than Phil Jackson
Told her beauty is why God invented eyeballs
And her booty is why God invented my balls
I’m a rockstar, huh, start it up
Start it up, huh, start it up
So popular you should get a shot of us
Don’t take shots at us that is only obvious

The first album I vomited, the second I colonic’d it
Aint nobody f-cking with me, I plutonic’d it
Bet I got some slippers on, bet go honour it
These aint even real clothes homie I’m pyjama rich
Banks told me homie go switch the style up
These b-tches on me homie only to arouse us
Told her I aint paying tonite I’m only browsing
She pulled her blouse up, said “it’s free”, I said WOWZER!

[Chorus]

[Swizz beatz]
Ninja, Kawasaki, Ducati, my old Harley
Rock the party
Move ya body
Wassup, wassup
Everybody
Start it up (vroom, vroom)
Start it up (vroom, vroom)
Start it up (vroom, vroom)
Start it up (vroom, vroom)
Start it up (vroom, vroom)
Wait a minute

[Ryan Leslie]
Lets get it started, get it started, get it started yeah yeh

Ladies and gentleman

[Fabolous]
Plenty hate, they be taking shots, never penetrate
Money generated, if we aint in the house, renovate!
Tryna eat, we aint finna wait
Where’s da dinner plates?
BMW, ten to 8, interstate 95, passenger
Baddest b-tch in the states, half Spanish half trinidad
Complexion Henny straight
Y’all aint got your business straight, track star, finna state
Time is money and I can’t afford to be a minute late
It’s time to make a movie let the haters watch
Diamonds spinning round the bezel thats tornado watch
My independant chick, I like my ladies Koch
She got an appetite for d-ck, I guess I place my crotch
That soft as tater top, long, try me not
Under the wings, fried rice at the chinese spot
I hear ‘em talking but they aint really living it
Opinions are like assholes so who gives a sh-t

[Chorus]

[Pusha T]
Ughh, my mindstate, raise the crime rate
Break a whole brick down for old times sake
Push an avalanche, that alpine shake
The coupe’s vanilla bean, the seats is pound cake
In my condo bitches with teddies on
Wall full of mirrors, heaven for an Eddie Long
My life the fast lane, gettin my Andretti on
Blow it all, you can’t take it when you dead and gone
You can’t hide it, I smell the fear
I can’t neither, you smell a millionaire
Off crack money not rap money
Poor platinum n-ggas, f-cking rap dummies
I wrap mummies, that’s kilograms
My brother’s keeper like Nino’s man
That’s G money, ghetto D money
1996 Master P money
Gone!

[Lloyd Banks– Start It Up Lyrics (feat. Kanye West)]


How do you rate these lyrics and song?
1 Star2 Stars3 Stars4 Stars5 Stars (No Ratings Yet)


If you enjoyed these lyrics, please share them

Show Comments

Comment on this page. Discuss song meanings here, state your opinion and share it with others,
or maybe even write a review in your own words.

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

Your opinion is very important. Thank you!