[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