Pop, Lock and Drop It - Robert Randolph, The Family Band

I’m from the illest part of the Western Hemisphere

So, if you into sight seein', don’t visit there

It’s somewhere between Jersey and Delaware

Philly never scared and them niggas ain’t timid there

Them young triggers lose lives by the minute there

It might start but the fight never finish there

They all fucked up tryna get the gingerbread

A few stacks be the price for a nigga head

Cops and robbers, cowboys and Indians

Clips and revolvers and George’s and Benjamin’s

A celebration of the loss of your innocence

To your old self, you’ve lost any resemblance

They say the city make a dark impression

The youth just lost and they want direction

But they don’t get the police, they get the protection

And walk around with heat like Charlton Heston, man

It’s in the music, turn it up let it knock

Let it bang on the block 'til the neighbors call the cops

The cops gone come but they ain’t gone do shit

They don’t want no problems, what are y’all stupid

It’s all in the music

It’s kinda ill how we grip these bitches in the Bonneville

It’s kind of a thrill, my mind, it will spill, my nine, it will kill

Of course, bro, like crossbow, I bring the force, though

Hittin your guts, splittin' your torso

It’s colder than the North Pole, livin' unlawful

I’m givin' you a jawful of somethin' awful

Yo, my theoretic is leaded, well, come and set it

The shit bang and leave you diabetic, for paramedics

I spit flames and get dames to get change

With pitbull bark and lock the shock

Don’t bother me, Ahk, don’t you dare lie to me, Ahk

I don’t know who this nigga that you try to be, Ahk

Benefit of doubt had me think you in it for clout

Big shit, send it for route and finish him out

Joints stiff from rigor mortis, while we swimmin' in waters

Women with daughters will have us niggas sinnin' with orders