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lock the hood down - g.t. lyrics

[intro]
ayy, yeah, brrt (motion)
(meech)
ayy, n*gga (come on, meech, come on, ayy)

[verse 1]
locked the hood down, know i started with some word*of*mouth (for real)
cop some beans in the city, send them b*tches down south (let’s go)
playin’ in this game, you better know it ain’t no timeouts (uh*uh)
my n*gga caught a body, got a net, so he fouled out (man)
i’m glad i grew up, when i was young, i used to wild out (for real)
you ballin’ on the net, but ain’t got nothin’ when you log out (finished)
b*tterfly doors, on some sh*t i gotta crawl out (skrrt)
and you would think we in the glogang, how we ball out (what up, glo?)
mad cause you gotta go to work, better call off
i ain’t gotta talk to no boss, i’m my own boss (boss)
i was born in this sh*t, watchin’ my daddy whip up bricks of soft
put all my n*ggas on, so i don’t ever think i’m fallin’ off (n*gga)
[chorus]
you ain’t never hit thе road, ten thousand beans on you (brrt)
straight drop of h*ll, all thе fiends on you (h*ll, all the fiends on you)
jumpin’ off the jet with some lean on me
f*ck the fake love, i rather be lonely
hundred twenty in this bag, got a sleeve on me (ayy)
got a new plug, put my team on him (team, put my team on him)
i could sell a song if i just breathe on it (n*ggas be phony)
all that fake sh*t, i can’t be on it

[verse 2]
i just [?][0:55] from mansfield to west v (i swear)
made a k!lling off the corner meet, bumpin’ lil b (for real)
been in these streets, ask cube, ask lil’ c (for real)
i be prayin’ i ain’t [?][1:02] ’cause i’m in deep (for real)
i remember times got hard, no ends meet
now we flex hard, we just pulled up in a bmg
n*gga, this a maybach, not a g63
and all the young n*ggas in my hood wanna be like me (yeah)
i was real young, watchin’ pops get it out the sink
my lil’ sister wasn’t even three, but she had a mink (i swear)
he told me i can get some real money, i just gotta think (for real)
dope came pearl with the flake, got it for the cheap (brrt)

[chorus]
you ain’t never hit the road, ten thousand beans on you (ayy, ayy, motion)
straight drop of h*ll, all the fiends on you (motion)
jumpin’ off the jet with some lean on me (come on, motion gang, wavy gang)
f*ck the fake love, i rather be lonely
hundred twenty in this bag, got a sleeve on me (got a sleeve)
got a new plug, put my team on him (ayy, yeah)
i could sell a song if i just breathe on it
all that fake sh*t, i can’t be on it (i can’t, come on)

- g t lyrics

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