Rubber Band Man - T.I.

Ay, who I’m is?

Rubber band man

Wild as the Taliban

9 in my right, 45 in my other hand

Who I’m is?

Call me trouble man, always in trouble man

Worth a couple hundred grand, Chevys, all colors man

Rubber band man, like a one man band

Treat these niggaz like the Apollo, and I’m the sandman

Tote a hundred grand canon in the waistband

Look’n fo’a sweet lick?

well this is the wrong place man

Seven tyme felon, what I care 'bout a case man?

I’m campaignin’to bury the hate, so say yo’grace man

Ay, I don’t talk behind a nigga back, I say it in his face

I’m a thoroughbred nigga, I don’t fake and I don’t hate

Check my resume nigga, my record’s impeccable

Anywhere in the A nigga how TIP is highly respectable

And the M-I-A nigga I’m tryna keep it professional

'Cause all this tongue rastling finna have me snap’n, I’m tell’n you

From the bottom of the Duval, Cakalacky to New York

And everybody show’n me love that’s one to you all

Yeah, to all my Florida niggaz, my Cakalacky niggaz, my LA niggaz

Call me trouble man, stay’d in some trouble man

Some niggaz still hate’n on shawty so, they some suckas man

Got a couple fans that love to do nothing other than

Lick, suck, show no 'spect, but still I love 'em man

Dig it, lil’pimpin’got the mind and the muscle

Stay down on his grind put the crown on the hustle

Ay, I could show ya how to juggle anything and make it double

Weed, blow, reel estate, liquor sto’wit’no trouble

Young Cassius clay of my day Marvin gaye of my tyme

Tryna stay alive, live’n how I say in my rhymes

My cousin used to tell me, take this shyt a day at a tyme

And told me Friday died, Sunday we a day in the ground

I still smile 'cause somehow I know he see’n me now

And so I’m doing all my shows just like he in the crowd

Ay, throw ya lightas up for my cousin Toot, (Rest In Peace)

Aaliyah, Left Eye and Jam Master Jay.

Grand hustle man mo’hustles than hustle man

But why the rubber band?

it representin’the struggle man

My folk gon’trap, until they come up wit’another plan

Stack and crumble bread to get theyself off they momma land

Gangstas who been servin, since you was do’n the run’n man

Went down, did 10, back 'round and rich again

That’s why I’m young wit’the soul of a ole man

I’m shell shocked, get shot slow ya roll man

Still ryde around with the glock on patrol man

I ain’t robbing, I’m just lookin for that dro’man

For ma niggaz slangin blow, pimpin’hoes

Rollin vogues, 24's

Let these other niggaz know