album cover
Block Lockdown (feat. Infamous 2-0)
Ludacris
28,781Hip-Hop/Rap2001
album cover
Block Lockdown (feat. Infamous 2-0) was released on November 27, 2001 by RAL (Rush Associated Label) as a part of the album Word of Mouf
AlbumWord of Mouf
ReleasedNovember 27, 2001
LabelRAL (Rush Associated Label)
LanguageEnglish
BPM73
Melodicness
Acousticness
Valence
Danceability
Energy

OVERVIEW

LYRICS

Lyrics

[Intro]
Disturbing Tha Peace, Def Jam South
Chris, you ready? (Yeah)
Oh, it's my turn? A'ight
[Verse 1]
I got permission to put yo' mamma in a headlock
She tried to jook me in a figure-four leg lock
She said she like the way I stick and make the bed rock
Or how I lick and leave her twisted like a dreadlock, and it's on
So stop the sweatin' like a wristband
And get some balance like a bike without the kickstand
I think I changed the definition of a hit man
'Cause I could really give a fuck about that bitch, man, c'mon
We puttin' holes in your residence
And lose anybody for the right precedence
We thugged out street **** with intelligence
So all that bullshit you yappin' is irrelevant, oh yeah
I represent the Dirty Southside
I'm a dentist, makin' women open they mouth wide
Could be in jail, still runnin' it on the outside
Think not, then won't you open up yo' mouth right, but who cares?
[Chorus]
I got my corner on lockdown
About to hold this whole block down
Ludacris, tell 'em how the South sound
Ooh, graa, ooh-ooh-ooh, graa
Ooh, graa, uh-oh, uh-oh, uh-oh
I got my corner on lockdown
About to hold this whole block down
Ludacris, tell 'em how the South sound
Ooh, graa, ooh-ooh-ooh, graa
Ooh, graa, uh-oh, uh-oh, uh-oh
[Verse 2]
Comin' to Shady Park is like a peep show
It's some respectable ladies, and there's some freak hoes
I know killers that go to church up in they street clothes
You'll end up missin' more than Shaq when shootin' free throws
They packin' and 'bout to open up the dope spot
My neighborhood is stoppin' cars like a roadblock
They movin' weight like Atlanta was movin' Boat Rock
And catchin' 'em's like seein' Muslims eatin' pork chops, never happen
And meanwhile, I been thinkin', man
**** started slangin' tapes like they slangin' 'caine
'Cause in the hood, it's gettin' ugly like orangutan
So if you tryin' to stop the hustle, get the dangalang
Okay, we tryin' to make our own White House
Paint it black and start yellin' our fuckin' pipes out
You try to tackle some players and you'll get psyched out
They can't fuck with us ****, you think they dyked out, so don't play
[Chorus]
I got my corner on lockdown
About to hold this whole block down
Ludacris, tell 'em how the South sound
Ooh, graa, ooh-ooh-ooh, graa
Ooh, graa, uh-oh, uh-oh, uh-oh
I got my corner on lockdown
About to hold this whole block down
Ludacris, tell 'em how the South sound
Ooh, graa, ooh-ooh-ooh, graa
Ooh, graa, uh-oh, uh-oh, uh-oh
[Verse 3]
Disturbing Tha Peace, we do that funky shit
Hey, what can I say? We got a monkey clique
See, Drae'll throw on them shades and make that funky shit
And keep y'all women away if they got funky clit, understand
We got that 'dro and it get rolled up
You pay the price and still we got the block sold up
Ain't nothin' nice a full house don't make you fold up
You pull a heist and try to jet and I'm like, "Hold up," goddamn
I need to say it on a megaphone
And tell your sister get the fuck up off the telephone
These fools is tickin' me off like fifty metronome
I'm takin' all of yo' money, just call me Pebbletone, alright?
I got the pistol and the safe key
You better tell your bitch to follow you to safety
How dare you wanna be heroes and tryna chase me
It's Ludacris, won't leave no evidence to trace me, you know why?
[Chorus]
I got my corner on lockdown
About to hold this whole block down
Ludacris, tell 'em how the South sound
Ooh, graa, ooh-ooh-ooh, graa
Ooh, graa, uh-oh, uh-oh, uh-oh
I got my corner on lockdown
About to hold this whole block down
Ludacris, tell 'em how the South sound
Ooh, graa, ooh-ooh-ooh, graa
Ooh, graa, uh-oh, uh-oh, uh-oh
[Bridge]
That funky shit, do that funky shit
Do that funky shit, do that funky shit
Do that funky shit, do that funky shit
Do that funky shit, do that funky shit
[Verse 4]
Welcome to Atlanta, jackin' Hammers and Vogues
Back to the mackin' and jackin' the clothes, adolescent packin' a fo'
A knock on the do', I would happen to know (Who is it?)
The one with the flow, it was me, I suppose (Who did it?)
JD in the Rolls and Luda's in the Cut' Supreme
Skatin' down Old Nat, gat tucked and lean
I split ya spleen, as a matter of fact, I split ya team
No blood on the sneaks, gotta keep it so my kicks is clean
I get the cream, cops see me flick my beams
I'm allergic to doc' prescribed antihistamines
Oink, oink, pig, pig, do away with the pork
Only silverware I need's a steak knife and a fork
Did you forget your fuckin' manners? I'm Bruce with Banners
Ludacris, Johnny Rockets when I shoot the cannons
The wooly mammoth sabretooth, bitch, bite your tongue
I won't stop until I'm rich as them whites'll come
I pulled up in the black Lotus
Your plaques are bogus, so I stripped them off the wall
Waitin' for my cue to corner pocket eight balls, you rackin' 'em up
I'm big paper like pancakes, stackin' 'em up
In fact, I'm slappin' 'em up, Cadillac is the truck
I can't lose with twenty-twos, bitch, that's what's up
Runnin' in the back to fuck, better than in the aqueduct
Chill-il-il-il-il-il-lin', flip-pi-pi-pi-pi-pin', what?
[Chorus]
Welcome to Atlanta, where the players play
And we ride on them thangs like every day
Big beats, hit streets, see gangsters roamin'
And parties don't stop till eight in the mornin'
Welcome to Atlanta, where the players play
And we ride on them thangs like every day
Big beats, hit streets, see gangsters roamin'
And parties don't stop till eight in the mornin'
[Verse 5]
Now the party don't start till I walk in
And I usually don't leave until the thing ends
But in the meantime, in between time
You work yo' thing, I'll work mine
I been puttin' it down here since '83
Since the Lake Shore, MD rivalry
When Frozen Paradise was the place to be
If you was ridin', you was bumping to homie Shy D
I'm the M.B.P., Most Ballin'-ist Player
Make my own rules, bitch, call me the mayor
Monday night, Gentlemen's Club
Tuesday night, I'm up in the Velvet Room gettin' fucked up
Wednesday, I'm at Strokers on lean
Thursday, Jump Clean, then I fall up in Kream
Friday, Shark Bar, Kaya with Frank Ski
Right on the flo' is where you can find me
Saturday, is off the heezy fo' sheezy
You can find me up in one-tweezy
Sunday, is when I get my sleep in
'Cause on Monday, we be at it again, holla
[Chorus]
Welcome to Atlanta, where the players play
And we ride on them thangs like every day
Big beats, hit streets, see gangsters roamin'
And parties don't stop till eight in the mornin'
Welcome to Atlanta, where the players play
And we ride on them thangs like every day
Big beats, hit streets, see gangsters roamin'
And parties don't stop till eight in the mornin'
[Chorus]
Welcome to Atlanta, where the players play
And we ride on them thangs like every day
Big beats, hit streets, see gangsters roamin'
And parties don't stop till eight in the mornin'
Welcome to Atlanta, where the players play
And we ride on them thangs like every day
Big beats, hit streets, see gangsters roamin'
And parties don't stop till eight in the mornin'
Written by: Bobby Sandimanie, Shondrae Crawford

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