Yeah
Vibe with me, sweetheart
It ain’t hard
Aw, fuck them niggas, I ain’t worried ’bout them
This Cash Money, baby
You know what I’m talking ’bout? This Tha Carter II
Kurupt, holler at them niggas (Nigga)

We won (Yeah), we won (Yeah)
And then we shot that BB gun (You know)
And they lost (Yeah), and they lost (That’s right)
And we took their shit, now it’s time to floss (Lock and load)
We won, we won (Yeah, it’s Weezy Baby, man)
And then we shot that BB gun (See, you gotta be real smooth, real slick about this here)
And they lost, and they lost (Extra gentle, on the tender side)
And we took their shit, now it’s time to floss (They like it that way, hah, lock and load)

Twenty-two-year-old 17th Ward vet
Life in the fast lane, little red Corvette
Little red handkerchief hanging out the right side
Back pocket jeans falling, cover my Evisu sign
Yep, we do shine and they’re gon’ hate
But they hated Jesus, baby, we won’t break
So we ride like four Pirellis, so secured
No security, no protecting, no comparing
Loc-ing heavy, Ocean 11
Aviators, vote-takers, so fakers, ah
No players, I’m Hollygrove to the heart
Hollygrove from the start, don’t cross Earhart
Boulevard was the ward I come from
One-seven, one shot? Never that, blum-blum
Brr, brr, pop, pop, clap, clap
What the fuck, Hollygrove, stand up (Nigga), duck

We won, we won
And then we shot that BB gun (Get low)
And they lost, and they lost
And we took their shit, now it’s time to floss (Lock and load)
We won, we won
And then we shot that BB gun (Yeah, me and my nigga Maine is in here smoking and laughing at you cats)
And they lost, and they lost
And we took their shit, now it’s time to floss (Let’s toast to how funny these guys are, we lock and load)

Get ’em, get ’em, Weezy, hit ’em where you kill ’em easy
Sit ’em in the river, leave ’em, they find ’em tomorrow evening
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)

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
Mhm
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