By shelz.
Know that I had a serious Troop flashback when I saw the title of this song. I almost didn’t want to push play. There wasn’t a good chance that Lloyd Banks was going to rap about flying away to a place that he longs for, but these days you never know. Thank goodness there is no Jheri Curl, no silk shirt and no heart-carved pathways to everlasting love. Don’t know the song I’m talking about? Don’t worry about it.
Banks actually takes a very different route on his “Spread My Wings,” finding himself in pre-millennium California with a laid-back funk bassline, splotches of synth and electric keys. It’s the sonic uniform of smokers everywhere, so hearing about getting high isn’t shocking. As a matter of fact, that’s what makes Mr. Banks spread his wings. Not love, but mary jane.
I’m not quite sure what the song is about. Banks ignores the hating bitches. He declines police services of all sorts and he takes a few pot shots at suckas who burn bridges just to beg their way back in. News flash sucka. It won’t work, because well… you’re a sucka. Banks then goes on to talk about the expensive car, the freaks who can’t get pillow talk and how dope he is.
It’s mixtape material (that’s why it’s on his upcoming tape Cold Corner 2) but it doesn’t suck. “Spread My Wings.” What happened to Troop anyway?
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