21 Savage and Metro Boomin - Glock In My Lap

Y'all niggas stop playin', nigga
Y'all niggas know what the fuck goin' on
Big 4L, big steppers
Big footprints, pussy (Southside on the track, yeah)
Pussy, pussy, pussy, pussy, pussy
Pussy, pussy, okay, 21 (Honorable C.N.O.T.E.)
Okay, 21, okay, 21 (okay)
Okay, 21 (Metro Boomin want some more, nigga)
21, 21, 21

Big 4L, I'm a member (yeah)
Leave an opp cold, like December (what?)
.45 on me, it's a Kimber (and what?)
AK knockin' down trees, like timber
Get your baby mama 'fore we bend her (21)
Hit the windshield, not the fender (21)
Givin' out smoke my agenda (21)
Throw the white flag, they surrender (pussy)
All black tux, I'm a business man (pussy)
Millionaire, still shakin' killers hand (woah)
Take the plug off and the middle man (woah)
Spray the whole block, I don't give a damn (woah)
Fuck a nigga bitch, I'm a gentleman (21)
21, your bitch know I been the man (21)
Playin' with the rock like I'm Jigga man
Gotta look a nigga in the eyes when you kill a man

Glock in my lap, everywhere I'm strapped
Most these rappers cap, I ain't givin' dap
Glenwood to the flat, used to rob and trap
Money tall, Shaq, choppa bullets, splat
Chuck E. Cheese, rat, we get rodents whacked
Way too many steppers, I can't hold 'em back
Body full of scars, face full of tats
You pray on your knees, I pray to my strap

Say you want smoke, but the fire come with it
Money on your head, nigga, we'll come get it
New Kel-Tec put a hun-dun in it
'Partment so sweet, threw a honey bun it in
Keep it in the street, I ain't doin' no squealin'
I don't never put women in my business
Full time rapper, I ain't doin' no drillin'
Woah, woah, I can make a M in my sleep (straight up)
Seventeen, breakin' down a P (on God)
Eighteen, start sellin' hard with Lil B
Hundred dollar three-five, a whip from D
Ridin' down Glenwood, tank on E
All about the money, I ain't never smoke weed
Cool young nigga, still take yo' cheese (pussy)
Not mine, this bitch for us (21)
The gang is what I trust (straight up)
Don't argue, we don't fuss (straight up)
No talkin', he get touched (straight up)
I can't smoke my opps (on God)
'Cause all my opps is dust (pussy)
He think he the battery, we call him Elon Musk (pussy)
Open your mouth when I bust (21)
Suck me up slow, but don't rush (21)
Havin' threesomes is a must (straight up)
Hit it from the back and she cussed (on God)
I put his bitch in the Benz (21)
She used to ride on the bus (damn)
I walk around with them thigh pads (21)
But I ain't got no yard rush

Glock in my lap, everywhere I'm strapped
Most these rappers cap, I ain't givin' dap
Glenwood to the flat, used to rob and trap
Money tall, Shaq, choppa bullets, splat
Chuck E. Cheese, rat, we get rodents whacked
Way too many steppers, I can't hold 'em back
Body full of scars, face full of tats
You pray on your knees, I pray to my strap

Written by:
Carlton D. Mays Jr., Joshua Howard Luellen, Leland Tyler Wayne, Shayaa Bin Abraham-Joseph

Publisher:
Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.

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