[Intro: Lounge Lo]
Yeah, uh-huh, it's me right here
I know ya'll ain't think I could do it again
KnawImean? Big rest in peace shout out
Y. Million, D.O. Cannon, that's what's up, man, let's go
(I love, to lock and load) I keep telling ya'll man, ya'll think I couldn't do it
(I love, to lock and loud) Ya'll crazy man, it's B.Z., ok...

[Lounge Lo]
Yo, I smash in the club, smoke brass in the club
Hit the bar, Lounge Lo, and spend cash in the club
Little punk, and it's me O.B., the O.G.
Listen up, it's something new out the hood from L.O.E.
And now ya'll niggas like 'damn, he nice'
I've been around so long, that I could of resigned twice
The years done passed, I ain't get no younger
I'm wise now, know how to do it, why don't you test this hunger
I'm from the spot, where it's Jimmy The-Good-Crack, my hood's back
I told 1-40, to give it here, and I took that
All promoters beware, look out and book that
I'm that nigga they talkin' bout that cook's rap
Staten Island holds me down, and Queens stand up
That nigga that shot D.O., we gon' blam him up
And ya'll niggas know, Loungin' Lo
It's Code:Red muthafucka, and we lock and load

[Chorus: Lounge Lo]
I love, to lock and load
(Staten Island, stand up, if you pop and go)
I love, to lock and load
(Uptown and the BX, had rich a and po')
I love, to lock and load
(Brooklyn, let me hear it, pop and go)
I love, to lock and load
(Supreme Team out in Queens, where they clock that gold)

[Lounge Lo]
Now I'm back with a vengeance, end of sentence
Reminds me of when I back on them benches
Peek-a-boo, through them holes, in the crack fences
I slung in my work, and even though I slap bitches
I'm grown now, with an eye just to stack riches
Before she go to sleep, I give my daughter asking kisses
Call it autumn in August, and tell her daddy misses
See you when I come back home, because that's when daddy finished
Yeah man, I do what I gotta, shoot who I gotta, man, it's Lou Lou Don Dada
Right? Affirmative act, I'm burning this track
And why you looking like you vex and wanna turn to your gat
Nigga, you know my style, you know my steeze
This is Lounge Mode Lo, slash, L.O.B., right?
We gon' get it, til we flip the shit
Rip the shit, yeah, I gotta get the shit

[Chorus]

[Lounge Lo]
You see me on the all-terrain, all my game
Is based in my chest, where I store my pain
Killa Hill cats I call my gang, we in the basement
On some Tigger shit, fuck rhymes, it's all cocaine
T-Shirt over the face, I can't taste nothing based
Mumping, look at the fiends face, slumping
I pump out, dump out from the shotgun
Hit the bullseye, check it upclose, I got one
Hit you right dead in the mug, a wet slug
I'm surprised they didn't tell you that shootings my best drug
I got a lazy eye, I'm no lazy guy
And just for Why, in the hood, I let them eighties fly
I never liked to see my babies cry
I love, the money, the cheddar, you know, I mean my gravy high

[Chorus]