Hold It Down

You know Lil Lu gon' hold it down

You got it, just the only round

Ay, you better just slow it down

'Cause when it's up, it be goin' down

Trap baby, I was born in the kitchen

What you scorin' was the ticket

You wouldn't goin', in them trenches, ****

We run them streets off, he got coins on them bitches

Up in traffic, we blow 'em, like it's horns on the triggers

Lil' woadie hotter than the stolen firearm with a body on it

Now it's bread on his head, and everybody want it

He talkin' to them feds, givin' taps and traps on e'ry corner

Seen him in your paperwork, you want that **** dead, don't you?

Huh, that baby glizzy got a leg on it

People catch me with this bitch, I'm goin' fed, homie

Got three convictions, keep it with me, just got off parole

Let the sneeze blow off your nose, step like shoes without the soles

Make me make your coffin close, I been on and off the road

What make you think that I won't off you

Then go shoot across the globe?

Mob shit, crank up your whip, then your car explode

Taurus of a Scorpio, give a fuck about your horoscope

They gon' call an audible, we send a blitz

Newspaper article with his face in that bitch

Whatever scene I catch him, they yellow-tapin' that bitch

My Glock, my faith in that bitch, when I go, I'm takin' that bitch

I know some **** want me dead, so they could rap about a body

They ain't catch pussy, bitch, you ain't like that though

I heard he thirsty for my bitch, I made her milk him 'fore we killed him

Make that boy shit his self like he was lactose

And I been, let the MAC go, hit the fist to your back porch

Put footprints in your back door

Now they fear spiders, that's arachno-

Phobia, that's the definition for them extra ****

They be Googlin' my lyrics, like I ain't the best that did it

Step on them ****, don't know how long I been tellin' them ****

They stealin' my swag, I develop them ****

Baton Rouge, Jay Z, Rockafella, lil' ****

Could cut off the beat acappella, it really don't matter

Could tell you stories 'bout them letters, lotta tears and blood shed

You know Lil Lu gon' hold it down

You got it, just the only round

Ay, you better just slow it down

'Cause when it's up, it be goin' down

Trap baby, I was born in the kitchen

What you scorin' was the ticket

You wouldn't goin', in them trenches, ****

We run them streets off, he got coins on them bitches

Up in traffic, we blow 'em, like it's horns on the triggers

Lil' woadie hotter than the stolen firearm with a body on it

Woadie hotter than the stolen firearm with a body on it