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lirik lagu locksmith – mari red & skilla baby

[intro: sk!lla baby & mari red]
(really, j? you did it again)
yeah
ah, huh?
yeah, yeah

[verse: mari red & sk!lla baby]
ayy, how could i forget all the times they tried to play me? (huh?)
still got the biscuit on me, i’ll spill a n*gga gravy (bah, bah, bah, bah)
real street n*gga, i won’t let ’em play me like a dummy (let ’em play)
if it’s ever beef, then it better be about some money (about some money)
how could i forget (huh?) every time they tried to take me?
if the hook behind me, they gotta chase mе (skrrt)
hmm, n*gga, these ain’t thirty milligrams, thesе eighties (these eighties)
when i slide, gotta have my mask ’cause i’m famous (bah)
if i gotta call bop (i’ma call him), brodie comin’, he won’t come for nothin’
lil’ bro gon’ wanna murder somethin’ (huh? yeah, yeah)
if i said a n*gga dead, then i meant that (then i meant that)
we gon’ smoke his whole camp, ain’t no get backs (ain’t no get backs, yeah, yeah)
huh? if i gotta call doc, it’s a body for a body (bah)
man, them little n*ggas shot me, should’ve dropped me (huh?)
ride with my chopper, tryna box me like amani (brr)
we don’t do leg shots, headshots, all homis (huh?)
yeah, me and sk!lla goin’ against these n*ggas, that’s a mismatch (that’s a mismatch)
pistol*whip him back to back to back and leave his sh*t cracked (yeah)
n*gga, i ain’t for the games, you could tell in my demeanor (huh?)
ayy, i can get a n*gga pressed like brodie workin’ for the cleaners (yeah, yeah)
when i said i’ma get my get back, man, i meant that
shootin’ at his stomach, tryna knock off his six*pack (bah)
baby, i don’t never get left, i’ma leave ’em (i’ma leave ’em)
my ar’ll clean a n*gga whole house, stanley steemer (huh?)
lil’ b*tch wasn’t tryna f*ck, i had to make a offer
my opps better get a ppo, i’m a stalker (i’m a stalker)
before you come and play with us, pick a coffin (yeah)
don’t brag about makin’ ten, man, i do that often (yeah, yeah)
n*ggas said we ain’t gettin’ to it where they lost me (where they lost me)
i’ve been puttin’ hits on these n*ggas, brian dawkins (bah)
tryna put the bl!ck on these n*ggas, i’ma chalk ’em (huh?)
how the f*ck is you gon’ catch me in traffic? you be walkin’ (ah, huh?)
i know how to talk sh*t, i know how to chalk sh*t (bah)
you don’t wanna catch me in traffic, i park sh*t (skrr)
blood got the stick in the party tryna start sh*t (huh?)
beat a n*gga ass, turn the party to a mosh pit (on my mama)
creepin’ in the opp’s crib, rr, i’m a locksmith (rr)
i don’t wrestle, let my .40 slam a n*gga, on my brock sh*t
creepin’ in the opp’s crib, fah, i’m a glocksmith (yeah)
in the trap you could smell what i’m cookin’, on my rock sh*t, huh? (yeah, yeah)

- mari red skilla baby

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