Lloyd Banks – Fly in The Wind (ft. Jim Jones)

Lloyd Banks is an American rapper known for his membership in G-Unit and his solo career. With a distinct lyrical style, he’s recognized for clever wordplay and gritty storytelling. Born in 1982, he gained prominence with G-Unit’s debut album “Beg for Mercy” in 2003. His solo debut “The Hunger for More” (2004) showcased his skill, marked by intricate rhyme schemes and punchlines. Despite a lower profile, Banks is highly respected for his authenticity and dedication to rap, influencing fellow artists who value lyrical prowess. Check out Fly in The Wind Lyrics and Video here…

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DozoYNSqyPA

Fly in The Wind Lyrics

If it ain’t the whip, its the jewels
New hit after hit, makes your chicks wanna choose
The hammers always workin, we in here with the tools
Fitty on the fifth seven hundred on the shoes
I gotta win, damn if I lose, whips fly in the wind, checks coming by the twos
I gotta win, damn if I lose, all my ex’s got cold hearts I’m probably that cool

We spendin cash over here you a swiper
You beefin’ on the internet I ain’t a big typer
I make her think I like her
You wifin’ yellow ice so when the problems start it up boy you just a pedal biker
Queens in this bitch, clean in the six (series)
New york city nigga I don’t like no team but the Knicks
Only Giant take Jets, baguettes gleam off the wrists G-coded fully loaded, gat and beam on the trips
Stuntin in the Rover, Gucci Polo, Nike timbo’s show
Hatians hella know, money stretch out like a limo though
Banks flow is stupid, his raps get me smothered
I get guap around the world girl my stacks multi-colored UH
Private lanes, we ain’t gotta land to change planes
Poppin hella tums, tryna kick the champagne pains
Blockin out my haters with designer name-frames
Poker face, giggling inside at ya fake chains

If it ain’t the whip, its the jewels
New hit after hit, makes your chicks wanna choose
The hammers always workin, we in here with the tools
Fitty on the fifth seven hundred on the shoes
I gotta win, damn if I lose, whips fly in the wind, checks coming by the twos
I gotta win, damn if I lose, all my ex’s got cold hearts I’m probably that cool

Check me out
Hey Baby wassup
You know Harlem in the Building its finna to get Splashy

I’m into knockin bitches off (Uhhhhh), knockin bitches out (Tyson)
When it comes to bricks or soft (Ballinnn)
We got em in a drought
I got the lambo whippin off (Vroom), the tires skiddin out (Ahhhhhh)
When a nigga lift the doors, a fly nigga gettin out (Goooo)
HUH my chain swinging like a haymaker (Get em)
This is vampire life, we the daybreakers (RRRRRRR)
If you wanna bet your luck you spend a day in Vegas (Skake em up)
But if you wanna fuck with us you might make the papers (Think about it)
Trying to watch the roof crumble like a piece of paper (Wooooooo)
And they better watch they step like Anita Baker (Easyyyy)
I gave the watch face bo-tox shots (Chillll)
And my neck keep me cool in all the hot spots

If it ain’t the whip, its the jewels
New hit after hit, makes your chicks wanna choose
The hammers always workin, we in here with the tools
Fitty on the fifth seven hundred on the shoes
I gotta win, damn if I lose, whips fly in the wind, checks coming by the twos
I gotta win, damn if I lose, all my ex’s got cold hearts I’m probably that cool

I got a lot to prove, you lose matter of time
My swagger eyed and news you fools mad at my shine
Hoppin down the avenues, new jewels back on the grind
Run up on us with ya lil cute tools, your out your mind
Niggas copycating, ain’t that flow familiar
Ghetto still lobby packing when I go Brazil
Ain’t no bitches snotty actin you not broke they feel ya
2-11 wood grain willa, bentley overkill
Uh my chick as nasty as it gets
You think I walk around with beads on, how they be flashin tits
My shorty cookin clean, handle magic tricks
Make it clap, gag spit, miss me with the average bitch
Reefer baby, Air jordan made me sneaker crazy
Never been a cuffer, hit and duck her, you can keep ya lady
Blue Heffner heartbreaker, only speakers play me
New mercedes, 180 my whole fleet is crazy

If it ain’t the whip, its the jewels
New hit after hit, makes your chicks wanna choose
The hammers always workin, we in here with the tools
Fitty on the fifth seven hundred on the shoes
I gotta win, damn if I lose, whips fly in the wind, checks coming by the twos
I gotta win, damn if I lose, all my ex’s got cold hearts I’m probably that cool

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