City on Lock

[Intro: Hit-Boy] Nabeyin Damn, this what it come to? Huh [Verse 1: Hit-Boy] Think I’ve been in a maze, fifteen minutes of fame I’ll put niggas on game, living up to my name Barrel into your mouth, I’m knocking brains out ‘Fore I switch up the style, I kick a bitch out Suit up, then boot up, a ruler, I’m too much Enough’s not enough when you came up from the mud I ain’t believe in you niggas, I’m a real big tipper My diamonds on glitter, I’m just with real niggas (I mean, real niggas ain't even gotta say they real) Throw a 100 in the tank, up my sleeve got an ace I done found another way Whether we back-to-back in Hondas or the Rolls I’m rooting for my niggas 'cause we chosen [Chorus: Nas] Nigga, we chosen, money we holding Ice stay frozen, your bitch open Got the city on lock now Got the city on lock Got the city on lockdown, nobody move a muscle Nigga, we true to the hustle Got the city on lock Got the city on lockdown [Verse 2: Dom Kennedy] See, my mama told me, “Don’t let these girls get you in trouble” Blood, sweat, tears to the struggle Spanish house, brown stuck on, pilots tucked Monte Carlo switch it up, rally stripes kitted up Flying down 48th, we just tryna live it up The difference was, I played my part But I never played myself so women give it up That’s 'cause the kids rapping now not as skilled as us I’m praying that they raise the game up I’m talking to everybody, no one in particular Come around my way, you could sit with us Black-owned stores, sage and cinnamon Credit card purchases, the minimum, new raw denim, ugh See I know what the mission was [Chorus: Nas & Dom Kennedy] Nigga, we chosen, money we holding Ice stay frozen, your bitch open Got the city on lock (Yeah) Got the city on lock (Yeah) Got the city on lockdown, nobody move a muscle (Uh-huh) Nigga, we true to the hustle (Yeah) Got the city on lock (Lock, yeah-yeah) Got the city on lockdown (Yeah, ugh) [Verse 3: Hit-Boy & Dom Kennedy] Look, they wanted to stop, we come out on top, the oven on hot City on lock, we not with the talk, we hit up your spot This ain’t the shit for the radio Party in the hills, look at the ratio Louis shades on, but I ain’t shady, though Came back in this bitch with a crazy flow I want to make a toast to the real ones When the bill come, we pull out platinum I need the black one, so run me my backend And as far as rapping goes, I'ma have to vote For the kid in the Dodger fitted just off style alone I believe in you niggas, but I’m still that nigga And my diamonds on glitter, and my jab much quicker My momma told me, "Son, stick to your hustle Stay close to people that love you"—I got this shit off the muscle [Outro] Ugh Nas Hit-Boy Dom Kennedy Got the city on lock City on lock Half-A-Mil Niggas Ugh