Locked In

[Intro: BabyTron]
I'm tryna stay locked in
It's [?] (Thank you, Jxlan, I appreciate you, man)
Nyah, phew

[Verse 1: Babytron]
I'll dress up like a crackhead to ask for gas
Soon as he crack the window down, I'ma fah his ass
Mr. Do the Dash, the decal gon' match the badge
Bottega everything, me and my bitch, we matchin' bags
Fuck a flashback Friday, we can flash some racks
She tryna land in Pound Town, she gotta wax that cat
Dog Shit Militia, bitch waggin' waggin' in my tail waggin' 'Bach
Pull up and melt everything just like a acid tab
My ho play Chanelly walkers with the razzledass
All they tryna play is slime, boy, I'll rattle back
The Za I smoke is feelin' like I'm tryna battle crack
And honestly, I almost died tryna battle back
David Robinson, they call me, "Add more Apple Jacks"
I'ma tryna Bin Laden, slidin' with the Taliban
They like, "What you smoking on?" oh, just the Dallas Mav's
And the list, think it's rigged how they graphed the stats
Lil' bitch snatched my soul, so I snatched hers back
Rollie with the shitty face, not a dab of ranch
You better not touch my coffee cup, shit, I act like gramps
Why this deuce of Stilpane tryna act like Xans?
I'm a young sack-runner, you know Gramz my mans
I'll flick a couple pics, I can't ham my fans
Oh, you want some beef? We’ll serve it to you like I'm Sam I Am
TRX so fast, fine shit done grabbed my hand
I ain't at the bank to look cool, I just snatched nine bands
Militia out in traffic zooming, we just snatched five Lamb's
I told you that I got a baby momma, bitch, don't grab my pants
Bitch, unhand my drawls
Riding with a long 'K, sound like a Dragunov
That lil' bitch pussy on fire, you seen dragons talk?
[He'll cook horrendous?] unky in here making dragons walk
Fuck a bag, I'll drag the mall
I'll flick the button on and cut the traction off
Don't you dare call me a worker, I'll smack yo' boss
Cartier Buffs white as fuck like [Asher Roth?]
She almost stayed a head shot, but I cannon balled
Stuffed her with a condom, and we stuffed it with a bag of Raw
All she did was read the first word and ripped my jacket off
Probably was my trigger fingers if it's hands involved
It'll probably make a cool rack you sell yo' catalog
When I pull these diamonds out, just watch them Jabba walk
I can't save you from that deep end, David Hasselhoff
Grab the penthouse, I been mastered lofts
When we yank the tracker out, you can't track the Hawk
He thought he got some cocaina, that's a bag of salt
Gotta remodel the hardwood floors, I just stashed the vault
Who the fuck told you—? Yeah, you must've had some nah
We the type to kill him on the court if he don't pass the ball

[Bridge: BabyTron & Babyfxce E]
ShittyBoyz, Dog Shit Miltia, double-7, 7772
ShittyBoyz (Yeah), Dog Shit Miltia
Long live $cam, R.I.P. Chris (M-block), T-double-H-L shit You hip, skip? (Aight) You know the script (Aight, huh), nyah

[Verse 2: Babyfxce E]
Fxce was fucked up as a kid, bruh, he ain’t have it all
She ain’t answer when I went to jail, bitch, I ain’t have to call
Just passed this bitch to bro cause he ain’t have a ball
So much money, I put it side to side, bro, you can’t stack it tall
'Cause this gon' keep on fallin' if I do
Girl's tripping after she get it tighter, can’t call that bitch my boo
I’m pissed, we just broke up after I bought her ass some shoes
And not no J’s either, I got them pink Bottega dudes
Tryna keep the piss behind the fence, but they keep breakin' loose
I see three niggas and up the stick, on bro I'm takin' two
When I find you I'ma kill you, feel like bro off takin' two
She think its hell, but it's a plus if she can shake it too
Should I hop in [elay?] truck today or should I take the coupe?
I know the choppa cold as hell, but this bitch'll still bake you too
I got a line of Tris a line of Quag', finna be a crazy deuce
He think he eatin' that lil ass money, we call that baby food
She fine as fuck and tatted up and she gotta lil' shaky doo
My bitch keep playin' Tron and E, I'm startin' to hate 'em too
Huh, yeah I rap, but I ain't gon' cap I still give tapers too
Or I can get you goin' just off a snap, that's what that paper do
Aight, crash the lamb' and broke my arm, rich nigga problems
And drink your jam so if that bitch don't shoot, a bitch nigga got it
God blessed you with a gift, bro I can't fix broken pockets
Now I think about it, that's prolly the reason niggas be tryna be 'round me
He tried to hide his hoe, but she came and found me
If I shoot the sticks, bro I ain't gon' miss, it's like I had it mounted
She keep likin' all my pics, they like he had to pound her
She cap and say he was the first nigga to hit, he thought he was Jackie Robinson
Oh shit, come hear that shit [Juan?]