G.T.
Lock The Hood Down
[Intro]
Ayy, yeah, brrt (Motion)
(Meech)
Ayy, n***a (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 bitches down South (Let's go)
Playin' in this game, you better know it ain't no timeouts (Uh-uh)
My n***a 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)
Butterfly doors, on some shit 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 shit, watchin' my daddy whip up bricks of soft
Put all my n***as on, so I don't ever think I'm fallin' off (N***a)

[Chorus]
You ain't never hit thе road, ten thousand beans on you (Brrt)
Straight drop of hell, all thе fiends on you (Hell, all the fiends on you)
Jumpin' off the jet with some lean on me
Fuck 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***as be phony)
All that fake shit, I can't be on it
[Verse 2]
I just [?][0:55] from Mansfield to West V (I swear)
Made a killing 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***a, this a Maybach, not a G63
And all the young n***as 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 hell, all the fiends on you (Motion)
Jumpin' off the jet with some lean on me (Come on, motion gang, wavy gang)
Fuck 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 shit, I can't be on it (I can't, come on)