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Back in 2009 Lloyd Banks released the song "Me And My Strap" featuring the late, great Nipsey Hussle. This is off of Lloyd's "4-30-09 (Happy Birthday)" mixtape.

Enjoy this No DJ version.

R.I.P. Neighborhood Nipsey Hussle

Grab yourself a copy:

Discogs: https://www.discogs.com/release/3305172-DJ-Whoo-Kid-Lloyd-Banks-4-30-09-Happy-Birthday

Lyrics:

[Chorus: Lloyd Banks]
I don't need a homie, I can watch my own back
Just me and my strap
Just me and my strap
Riding with her on my lap 'cause niggas don't know how to act
Just me and my strap
Just me and my strap
Sour Diesel by the pound and money coming by the stack
I need it like that
I need it like that
On point 'cause niggas hate it when your shit is on track
Just me and my strap
Just me and my strap

[Verse 1: Lloyd Banks]
No sleep no reply, look a coward in his eyes
Unnecessary lies, just how a nigga fry
Respect to the sky, Gotti power 'til I die
If I'm at a house party, shotty probably on the side
Smoke, poly, then I slide
Goin' whoop wolly on the ride
Southside, home of the pride, where did you ride?
Guide, I want my mama house same size Obama house
Madonna house, Fendi rugs, Louis sink, and Prada couch
Small money make tall money, every dollar counts
Tall money means more money, bring the diamonds out
Who you think you is? 'Cause I know who you are
We know where you be, you will be in D-E-E-P
Shit happens when you yip yappin'
I got both Blood and Crip backing
Don't get your shit smacked
I got a stupid buzz and a wardrobe
I only like to use for clubs
Day and night I'm used to hugs

[Verse 2: Nipsey Hussle]
Listen, look, pistol grip pump on my lap at all times
I got to many enemies for you to ask why
My city is a warzone and there's two sides
So where I come from, niggas murder to survive
Look, my purpose is to ride
Above you fake faggot motherfuckers I despise
745 when I ride by, yeah, my bitch fly
Smokers in the sky, why ask why
My Glock provide hollow tips for the homicide
My block alive, Frankenstein, I'm a problem child
Somebody tell 'em crack mailers makes mamas cry
This MAC 11 crack selling, check my Slauson style
I stay fly 'cause I ain't focused on falling down
I'm ballin' now, so all my ex-bitches calling now
I fuck and clown, kick 'em out and make a song about it
You talkin' 'bout that drama, boy, I'm all about it
Me and my pistol press a issue, we the squad about it

[Verse 3: Lloyd Banks]
Niggas don't wanna see you paid
Niggas rather see you broke
Nigga rather be a hater
Fitted more than a scope
Lloyd got the game in choke
Figure four, in a yoke
Motherfucker, have a plan
That's more important than hope
What's more important than life?
Better get you a gun, get you a knife
'Cause if they'll get you once, they'll get you twice
Trife life, neighborhood stripes and white ice
Nice flights, came a long way from mountain bikes
Too many niggas in, server gets the message out
Snitches burn bridges when the cops take the pressure out
Real recognize that ain't real, what can I say?
Like Pac, I'd rather be a N-I-G-G-A
Getting twisted all day on that OG K
No time to play, a nigga don't move, he don't get paid
Hey, pass the zay, so I can get some groupie love
Blow job and Gucci glove, orgy and a Gucci tub