Ankle Lock

[Intro]

(I-I'm number 6)

Okay

[Chorus: Lancey Foux]

I wrestle the money, the bag in a ankle lock (Grrt)

I wrestle the money, the bag in a ankle lock (Huh, huh)

She tiptoed to me in a Cartier ankle lock (Ankle lock)

I tiptoe in the road, it feel like a anchor dropped (Baow)

I sit low in the Rolls, I got my ankles up (Sittin' low)

She dips lower and lower as soon as the bands go up

I wrestle the money, the bag in a ankle lock

I wrestle the money, the bag in a ankle lock (Grrt, ha, ha, ha)

[Verse 1: Fimiguerrero]

I get to thе cream (Yuh)

My hands, I'm ashin'

I'm countin' the cash up, the labеl's a lotion in me (Let's go)

My chain clang so damn loud (Ha)

It sounds like the toaster to me

I know that my mum ain't proud

I didn't go uni, I was shotting them Z's

Ch-Chain like me, neck zero degrees (Ha)

You niggas be beefin' your bitches, I wrestle the cash, WWE (Bitch)

I-I call a boy ankle sock

When I put on this fit, all these bitches can't see

Ca-Ca-Cartier ankle lock, Ba-Baltimore act like a ankle pop (Bitch)

I throw the cash, go thump

I'll slide on your bitch like an Insta dump (Ah)

[Chorus: Lancey Foux, Len & Fimiguerrero]

I wrestle the money, the bag in a ankle lock (Grraow, grraow)

I wrestle the money, the bag in a ankle lock (Huh, huh)

She tiptoed to me in a Cartier ankle lock (Ankle lock)

I tiptoe in the road, it feel like a anchor dropped (Baow)

I sit low in the Rolls, I got my ankles up (Sittin' low)

She dips lower and lower as soon as the bands go up

I wrestle the money, the bag in a ankle lock (Ankle lock, huh)

I wrestle the money, the bag in a ankle lock (Hol' on, uh)

[Verse 2: Len]

Ankle lock, the racks go up and gyal see me, them pants gon' drop

Two things for certain, one is death, the other one, my gang on top (Yes)

I just hit Paris fashion week, spent ten racks on my pantalons (My pantalons)

I feel like I'm going blind, can't see no competition

Optician, put a lens on my eyes, the roads not stayin' the same

If you got a show, I'm sendin' my young boy 'round, he's bringin' me back a chain

Call me what you want, these niggas can call me sassy

These niggas can't call me a stain (Hol' on)

Who's the ones turning up London? (Us)

Overseas, I turn it to London (Us)

[Chorus: Lancey Foux]

I wrestle the money, the bag in a ankle lock (Grrt)

I wrestle the money, the bag in a ankle lock (Huh, huh)

She tiptoed to me in a Cartier ankle lock (Ankle lock)

I tiptoe in the road, it feel like a anchor dropped (Baow)

I sit low in the Rolls, I got my ankles up (Sittin' low)

She dips lower and lower as soon as the bands go up

I wrestle the money, the bag in a ankle lock

I wrestle the money, the bag in a ankle lock (Grrt)