we locked in - fmb dz lyrics
[intro: fmb dz]
(ap)
what’s up, pape?
[verse: fmb dz]
i’m a made man, you know ain’t no talkin’ me to death (nah)
pull up in a ‘vette, i be smokin’ peanut b*tter breath (yeah)
they can’t f*ck with me, truly i ain’t met a n*gga yet
i keep the apes with me, we be yellin’ woop and beatin’ our chest
walkin’ through the club, we be movin’ n*ggas out the way (yeah)
got in with the snub, brodie at the door with baby drac’
i get to hoin’ hoes, i be mushin’ b*tches in they face
b*tch, i’m a big dog, i don’t want that head, only want straight [?]
oh, you ain’t hear ’bout it?
they call me mr. blow*a*hundred*thousand*and*don’t*carе*about*it
forty*ball on me, i got ten thousand in each pockеt (yeah)
ain’t no n*gga takin’ sh*t from me ’cause i’m a rottweiler (nah)
hangin’ out the window broad day, let a glock holler
[chorus: paperboy rell]
first day was hatin’, now they tryna shake my hand
[?] hundred pints, tryna make a half a man
alphabet boys ridin’ with them f&ns
this ap a skeleton, a dead man on my hand
you switchin’ sides, yeah, i thought you was my man
your own brother crossed you out for them bands
these fake n*ggas ain’t gang, they pretend (nah)
fast money boyz, pvc, we locked in
[verse 2: fmb dz]
can’t let ’em cross you out, don’t show them boys the route (don’t show ’em)
i’m best friends with the plug, i never seent a drought
got my young n*ggas in the club, they’d air it out
we’d pull up to a n*gga house, we know your whereabouts
we only put forgis on the coupes, we don’t rucci ride (skrrt)
tell a n*gga d*ck his partner up, i’m on that gucci time
i just counted up a sixty*ball in some gucci slides (yeah)
never gotta question my respect, n*ggas gettin’ mine
blood on my neck, reach for that, that’s how i’ma side
gotta know the boogeyman close whenever i’m outside
pull up like the president, they know i’d ride
i’ma hop out, a n*gga tried some sh*t, everybody died
[chorus: paperboy rell]
first day was hatin’, now they tryna shake my hand
[?] hundred pints, tryna make a half a man
alphabet boys ridin’ with them f&ns
this ap a skeleton, a dead man on my hand
you switchin’ sides, yeah, i thought you was my man
your own brother crossed you out for them bands
these fake n*ggas ain’t gang, they pretend (nah)
fast money boyz, pvc, we locked in
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