Lock Your Doors by Coolooloosh Lyrics
[Verse 1]
Son they creep through windows and kick down doors
Blaze the street with heat ever raw
Fiend for desperation in withdraw
Bound by no rules and lost by law
But fuck the law son they be evil for sure
More sadistic than saw
They roll leather face with Texas chainsaws
Massacre of the poor who be scetch’n the draw
Catch’em on the humble son like whoever you are the pitch black’em out like tar
Barrels in your car smacked dead in your jaw
Dragged out your whip skid marks and the engine roar for
[Chorus]
It’s all city the cruddy busyness
And it’s a cold world yep the illest that it gets
Thugs jack grips and gangsta stack chips but how many will be caught up in the mix
You better lock your doors
[Verse 2]
Son He stressed for rent the pay checks been spent
Give’em an inch and they stick for a mile
Rude boy style ricochets and shrapnel but is their mercy for a war child child soldier
The youth in distress tuck your gold son them slugs burn flesh
Or they collect direct roll up in your rest use your crib as a bank and withdraw goods
And deposit mad wreck
Keep’em scream’n what’s next
More than what you could never expect
They pace steps after a cashed check and then yes
In every since ends get meet
Son they creep through windows and kick down doors
Blaze the street with heat ever raw
Fiend for desperation in withdraw
Bound by no rules and lost by law
But fuck the law son they be evil for sure
More sadistic than saw
They roll leather face with Texas chainsaws
Massacre of the poor who be scetch’n the draw
Catch’em on the humble son like whoever you are the pitch black’em out like tar
Barrels in your car smacked dead in your jaw
Dragged out your whip skid marks and the engine roar for
[Chorus]
It’s all city the cruddy busyness
And it’s a cold world yep the illest that it gets
Thugs jack grips and gangsta stack chips but how many will be caught up in the mix
You better lock your doors
[Verse 2]
Son He stressed for rent the pay checks been spent
Give’em an inch and they stick for a mile
Rude boy style ricochets and shrapnel but is their mercy for a war child child soldier
The youth in distress tuck your gold son them slugs burn flesh
Or they collect direct roll up in your rest use your crib as a bank and withdraw goods
And deposit mad wreck
Keep’em scream’n what’s next
More than what you could never expect
They pace steps after a cashed check and then yes
In every since ends get meet