“Flatline” is a collaborative track by Young Chris and Lloyd Banks, two skilled rappers known for their lyrical abilities and unique styles. The song was released as part of Young Chris’ mixtape “The Network” in 2011. Young Chris Flatline Lyrics is a must hear for everyone.
In “Flatline,” both Young Chris and Lloyd Banks showcase their respective talents, delivering strong verses with clever wordplay and impressive flows. The song’s production provides a solid backdrop, allowing the artists’ rhymes to take center stage.
Lyrically, the track delves into their experiences, street life, and the challenges they’ve faced in their careers. The chemistry between Young Chris and Lloyd Banks is evident, and their verses complement each other well, making for an engaging and enjoyable collaboration.
“Flatline” is a solid addition to their individual discographies, and it offers a glimpse of the kind of quality hip-hop that fans have come to expect from these two artists. It’s a track that will appeal to fans of traditional, lyrically-driven rap, and a testament to the skills and talents of Young Chris and Lloyd Banks.
Check out Young Chris Flatline Lyrics and Video here…
Young Chris Flatline Lyrics
[Verse 1: Young Chris]
Check one, check two
Show them what the Tech do
Any nigga achoo
A Smith & Wesson’ll bless you
Gunner still standing tall
Don’t know what the rest do
Aim above the neck, so we don’t care about what the vest do
22, 25, 38 special
40 caliber, 45, 50’s to wet you
With a note for death too
Brought up in the pain
Don’t get caught up in the rain
And sleep in death before they arrest you
All black everything
The skies, nigga guess who
Young D. Jackson on the fly, nigga catch who?
F you bitch ass niggas that’s on my shit list
Big tips to help you niggas out on your fitness
First 48
Make sure you never forget this
If you catch him and beat him
Gotta make sure you bury the witness
Haters I’m shittin’ on
Get my Blake Griffin on
Get the clippin’ on
Any nigga be ready to flip the strong
Glock 23 like Mike
I put the Pippen on
33 extent, I’m retarded with it, I’m spittin’ on
Niggas out the kit is who diggin’ their cemetary
I’m a play a bitch for life
Might have been in the bitch you married
Young rich hustler
Millionaire in due time
Cam Newton in Auburn
Kemba Walker in Uconn
Sit them niggas down
We stretch them out; futon’s
Bullets in their big ass heads; Jimmy Neutrons
[Verse 2: Lloyd Banks]
2 G’s on my new sleeves
Paper scenting the new breeze
Smells like money and blue crees
Don’t bomb on my true speed
Feel the Malibu breeze
Bad bitches in cool keys
Way to cool to be booed up
Louis’ed down to the shoe strings
One of the very few kings
A Smith & Wesson burn
There’s no tellin’ where added 2’s graze
30k on my mood ring
Dirty play how we do things
Burn your way with the blue flames
“Hood drain” on your Boolean
Who scared the crazy out ya, are you sane?
It’s getting easier
Birdie flipped to the media
Money’s the only medicine
Medicine, or we’re leavin’ ya
Lost homies to ballin’
I’m shittin’ on you in front of all them
Been in hell and back up
Strapped up, now here’s your order
Money change weather, big bills make it feel like it’s pourin’
Thunderin’ hail stormin’ on them first thing in the mornin’
More than likely hella icey
I shift on niggas that wanna knife me
Try and strike me
Come right off your Nike
Poverty don’t play games
Ain’t no bullies, just bang bang
Went to Philly and same thing
Keep a milli and maintain
Shh, not in my character
Huh, a wonderful marriage
I’m hooked, but I ain’t mad at you
Look, finally established the crook
Took what I needed, fuck playin about a Brooklyn speed
Chuck beat it
Exotic readin’ and hollow heated
You can keep the love, my heart don’t need it
Made it out the bottom, hardest part completed
Choose cards, odds and evens
… YEAH!
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