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Lock And Load - Kurupt Lyrics

from Tha Carter, Vol. 2

"Lock And Load - Kurupt" is track #8 on the album Tha Carter, Vol. 2. It was written by Carter, Dwayne / Williams, D. / Jones, Tristan / Brown, Ricardo.
"Lock And Load - Kurupt" is track #8 on the album Tha Carter, Vol. 2. It was written by Carter, Dwayne / Williams, D. / Jones, Tristan / Brown, Ricardo.

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[Chorus] 2x
We won, we won
And then we shot that BB gun
And they lost, and they lost
cause we took they shit, now its time to floss

22 year old 17 war vet
Life in the fast-lane, little red corvette
Little red handkerchief, hangin out the right side
Back pocket jeans fallin, Couple my evisu signed
Yep we do shine, and they gon hate
But they hated Jesus baby we wont break
So we ride like 4 Pirellis
So secured no security, no protectin no comparing
Lok and heavy, Ocean 11
Aviators, both tickers, so figures
No playas, Im Hollygrove to the heart
Hollygrove from the start
Dont cross Earhardt
Boulevard where the ward I come from
17, one shot, never that (blum blum)
Brrrt Brrrt! Pop Pop! Clap Clap!
What the fuck, Hollygrove stand up Nigga!


Get em get em Weezy hit em where you kill em easy
Sit em in the river, leave em, they find em tomorrow evening, sinkin
Im probly drinkin that syrup
Thinkin I wont slip, even though Im leanin like a broke hip
He dont know I got the nina wit the full clip
Thats a somersault back spin full flip for ya?
Push this button, I flip out and hit something
Miss nothin i'm just bustin until this scene clean
12 hundred for the jeans stop playin
Hundred dollars for the glock in my pants
Who the man? I am when I stand with it pointed right at ya face
Knock the brains from the back of ya neck for lack of respect
I- strap a jet black gat til the deck
Tell the mama to bury me with that, No Bullshittin
My hood getting kinda crazy where I be
So Ronie's with me 'cause he's the OG

Fresh out the back seat of the figgity phantom
The haters I make em mad em when I wave at em like what up?!
If it ain't about money I keep goin
I tryna get that green, niggas tryna mow my lawn
But Fuck, them boys I got the shottie on my arm
If them boys run up I leave their bodies on the lawn
And Duck the fuck out a there, 'cause baby its hot out there
If this was a movie its time to roll the credits, cut!
Its all over, all of ya brains is all over the motherfuckin block!
Im a motherfuckin rock!
Hard body eagle street 17 shots
Night vision double-clip, hot steady beam, glat! Pop!
Drop little man drop
This is not for little bitches you man or a fox
Im layin in the drop, thinking of more money
Cash money, young money
Take money, your money.



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Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.


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