4 Minutes – Juvenile feat Hot Boys
[B.G.]
You know we don’t drop hits, uh-uh
We drop classics n_gga, uh-huh
Cash Money, c’mon, get at me n_gga
N_gga thuggin, is in my blood and my genes
All the n_ggaz I f_ck with they bling bling
But yet it’s my block my hood my set n_gga
Uptown is the spot where you get put to the test n_gga
Best be bout unloadin a Tec n_gga
You better protect your head, f_ck the chest n_gga
I run with the killers guerillas and the headbusters
I grew up with murderers and hustlers you can’t trust ’em
I been cut-throatin n_ggaz for a while now
I stay to tapin and whoopin ballers who got plots
of birds or chickens or ki’s or bricks, whatever
Click clack! I got to have it, no matter
what, the, situation be
I’m bout my fetti my dollars my loot my grip my green
UPT 13 and CMB
is what I represent for life and I’m H-O-T n_gga
(4, minutes, left!)
[Juvenile]
Dis b_tch off the hook! N_gga never sleep
Dis b_tch full of crooks, they hunt for the weak
N_ggaz comin home tryin to hit ’em a lick
Wanna bounce from a quarter ounce up to a brick
Dem old side n_ggaz, them new side n_ggaz
Might get loaded but they do ride n_ggaz
They stuck in line, but right after it’s all over
The block party jumpin at Washington in Magnolia
They smokin weed, they slangin D they sellin ki’s
While b_tches shakin they ass in the middle of the street
You representin? It better be M-A-G
Or n_ggaz gon’ get mad and, never let you leave
A bill mine, 6th Street and Hadley
Willow Street, Robertson and T.C.
It’s on fire from the wars they cause
A bunch of ignorant motherf_ckers wearin camoflauge
(3, minutes, left!)
[Lil Wayne]
Yes, one-seven n_gga, look
N_ggaz step down to the nasty, filthy, dirty
Holly Grove, Carrington, 17 you heard me?
Need them, birdies? You should see Weezy
Prices, cheaper than the average, ki’s be
We be, thuggers, stunners, hustlers
Kidnap mothers, rape with no rubbers
What the, hell? What is that I smell?
No it’s not but it’s a dead body by the canal
My grill, platinum; necklace, platinum
Rolex, platinum; Hot Boy, ask him
Blunts, we pass ’em; guns, we have ’em
We do not flash ’em unless we gon’ blast ’em
My clothes, Rees, Tees, Girbauds
Fo’-fo’s, semi-automatic calicos
Brrrrrrr! Reload – tch-chk explode
Let it be told, I’m from Holly Grove, what?
(2, minutes, left!)
[Turk]
Look.. look, look
Plenty got diamonds in my Rolex
Two karats on my finger, ten around my f_ckin neck
It’s a must everyday that I keep my pockets fat
Got so many haters that’s why I stay strapped on my gat
I bust back back leave yo’ b_tch ass flat
Trust that if you play with me I dress in black
That’s a fact don’t make me click up with Karen and Brad-Brad(?)
You head your lose that, ain’t no comin back back, I’m tellin you
Play with me your people people gon’ be smellin you
Make me pop and throw, six n_ggaz gon’ carry you
People don’t have no money they can’t bury you
Don’t have no insurance you be in the freezer a week or two
Bought that insurin yourself cousin
Get it how you live it n_gga when they come cousin
Gun I’ma peel it n_gga you can run cousin
Gun click get hit and you get stung cousin, stung cousin
(I hope you got the message!)
