Lock And Load

Sinking, I'm probably drinking that syrup

Thinking I won't slip, even though I'm leaning like a broke hip

He ain't know I got the nina with the full clip

That's a somersault, backspin, full flip for you

Push this button, I flip out and hit something

Miss nothing, I'm just busting until the scene clean

Twelve hundred for the jeans, stop playing

Hundred dollars for the Glock in my pants, who the man?

I am when I stand with it pointed right at your face

Knock your brains from the back of your neck for lack of respect

I strap a jet-black gat 'til the death

Tell my mama to bury me with that, no bullshitting

My hood getting kinda crazy where I be

So Ronnie's with me 'cause he's the OG (nigga)

We won, we won

And then we shot that BB gun (I told 'em)

And they lost, and they lost

And we took their shit, now it's time to floss (gotta duck your head, lock and load)

We won (these niggas mad), we won

And then we shot that BB gun (you know they hate you when you get money on 'em)

And they lost, and they lost (but they're losing, that's right)

And we took their shit, now it's time to floss (Yeah, lock and load)

Yeah, fresh out the back seat of the phiggity-Phantom

The haters, I make 'em madder when I wave at 'em like, "What up?"

If it ain't 'bout money, I keep going

I'm tryna get that green, niggas tryna mow my lawn, but fuck

Them boys, I got the shotty on my arm

If them boys run up, I leave their bodies on the lawn

And duck the fuck outta there, 'cause baby, it's outta there

If this was a movie, it's time to roll the credits, cut

It's all over, all of your brains is all over the motherfucking block

I'm a motherfucking rock

Hardbody, Eagle Street, seventeen shots

Night vision, double clip, hot steady beam Glock

Pop, drop, little man, drop

This is not for little bitches, you're man or a fox?

I'm laying in the drop, thinking of more money

Cash Money, Young Money, take money, your money (nigga)

We won, we won

And then we shot that BB gun

And they lost, and they lost

And we took their shit, now it's time to floss (yeah, lock and load)

We won, we won (you know, I thought they knew it was really real, Daddy)

And then we shot that BB gun (yeah, homeboy)

And they lost, and they lost

And we took their shit, now it's time to floss (my motherfucking wristband was three hundred dollars)

No lie (lock and load)

Dolce & Gabanna

They should pay me for saying that shit

So is my jeans

They wasn't three hundred, but they're Dolce too

Yeah

We won, motherfucker, we winning over here

That's right, hey

Somebody call Gordon, tell him pull up front

Open the doors, suicide 'em

Let's ride out

If you got money, you know what the fuck I'm talking 'bout

If you don't, keep thinking

If you can do that

Your losing streak is going up

Why? 'Cause we're here

And I'll fuck this up today, straight up