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Music Video


Dead Roses Lyrics


Artist: Lloyd Banks

 

Dead Roses Lyrics

Dead Roses by Lloyd Banks


[Intro]
Uh

[Verse 1]
You gettin' agitated from waitin', I smell your hatin'
You want my spot, huh? You've been practicin' your celebration
The type that wanna slow you down when you're acceleratin'
Entitled niggas want results without the dedication
Really believed in what you talkin', you'd be workin' on it
In breakin' day mode, and you haven't been the perfect mornin'
Stayin' true to yourself, dawg, it's what's most important
Remember all that was done for you, treat your folks accordin'
Lean on the motherf**kin' sofa like the hook recordin'
When it rains it's a storm, watch all the culprits pourin'
State of emergency, hear the culture callin'
And they wanna seem cool, they make you focus on 'em
You lose your life, too much sleepin', havin' a dream is tough
Niggas gotta see your blood stream to make your streams go up
Came in the business, fire and a diesel cup
It's my fault you runnin' in place? Ain't even stuck
[Chorus]
I'm hopin' it's just a phase
The moves'll have you questionnin' the way that they were raised
I'm looking 'round amazed
It's like it's so hard to congratulate a nigga nowadays (Congratulations)
Now the community's enraged
But they don't give a sh*t about you 'til you on the front page
And the sympathy is staged
A bunch of motherf**kers puttin' flowers on your grave

[Verse 2]
Uh, so quick to paint a different picture when that chalk's around 'em
That ain't your friend, soon as he walks away, you talk about him
All he wanted for you's the best, he never cut your throat
All the women in the world, you wanna f**k his though
Nowadays everything different, even suckers blow
b**ch niggas with big ass jewelry, you'd have to tuck it though
Okay, you walked in my stompin' grounds but you tip-toe
Bangin' on rumors, damn, I miss hangin' up with my flip phone
You tattle-tale on niggas, you need your lips sewn
The veins frozen, the flow's golden, the crib's chrome
Go against me, you be blue, niggas get buried different
What good is the seed if you niggas gon' be out here cherry pickin'?
Ain't postin' on social media, you can tell he missin'
Found with all them holes in his head, imaginary pimpin'
Give me flowers while I can smell 'em
Life stinks, I rolled a seven
Only right I slow down, I was a MAC-11

[Chorus]
I'm hopin' it's just a phase
The moves'll have you questionnin' the way that they were raised
I'm looking 'round amazed
It's like it's so hard to congratulate a nigga nowadays (Congratulations)
Now the community's enraged
But they don't give a sh*t about you 'til you on the front page
And the sympathy is staged
A bunch of motherf**kers puttin' flowers on your grave

[Outro]
Dead roses
Give me mine while I can smell 'em
Dead roses
f**k I'm gonna do with 'em in Heaven?
Dead roses
Give me mine while I can smell 'em
Dead roses
f**k I'm gonna do with them in Heaven?



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