4 Seasons (Blackout! 1999)

Текст песни Method Man & Redman, Ja Rule, LL Cool J - 4 Seasons (Blackout! 1999)

Smoke More Grass

[Redman]
Bitch!
Brick City, yo
Yo, yo Funk Doc straight lunatic since young
I ate paint chips the rare moon
That pair mics, my maintenance
I battle you and then me and Meth exchange shifts
For money, to your house arrest anklet
I take it all, if not, here's a thousand
Bricks, be shooting fair ones with bail bonds men
I'm constant, on that paper chase
Blow zip codes from bricks to 8-1-8
Doc serve til you lickin' the plate
Battle royal, in the ring smoking like Doc out of oil
Fire thrown to the roof of you apartment
Hit 95 then I hide with the Waltons
Down South, the forty-four feela
I'm a Dolo nigga, you a Polo nigga
I'm an Uptown shopper, you a Soho nigga
Westside highway running, homo nigga

[LL Cool J]
I'm the sultan of the ghetto
The homicidal aficionado
I empty niggas out like Cristal bottles, uh
When I battle, I'm breaking Bentleys down to gravel
I got the heat right here, we ain't got to travel
I'm bigger than producers, I figured out you losers
I knew my longevity confuse ya
Big paper game, come on run into these flames
Recognize the power of the royal King James
Phantom Menace, that's why niggas make faces like they drinking Guinness
When they realize I'm not finished
I've been paid, I've been platinum, been spittin', uh
Been eatin', been ballin' and you know I'm shittin'
Platinum links, chinky-eyed blonde haired honeys sippin' rainbow colored drinks
Black thugs with white minks, ready to jack the brink
Bend your little wifey over help her stretch out the kinks
That's why ya niggas freeze when I step up in the building
The Godfather's here giving blessings to his children
Carats shine, the world all mine
Can't believe these cats is poppin' shit about papers in their rhymes
Or bodies they collect, black Gotti shot a tech
Them gangsta visions will have you ass up in an ambulance
Cats ain't live, look up in my eyes
We can do this one more time, I'll let you decide
The Alize swigger, I clock twelve figgas
Think Giuliani's rough I got some real shit for niggas
Never been defeated, niggas retreated
Made the choice to be seated until my mission's completed
Get loose, get loose, Method Man get loose
What the world gonna do when my dogs get loose?
(Blaze one) Blaze one (Blaze one) Blaze One
Blaze, blaze, blaze one
[Method Man]
Now four corners, four seasons
Four MC's with four reasons to bring this game to its knees
And while you down there, suck my dick
My whole motto is fuck it
Hit the smoke shop and blow my budget
MC's abusing my bitch, using my shit
I'm hanging off the roof with one hand, losing my grip
Now y'all don't wanna see me do that, now do you?
Go straight cuckoo and terrorize rap, do you?
I do my best work stressed out and under pressure
Deep inside the mind is where you'll find my buried treasure
I'm still wild, still Tical
Still gritty style, still foul, crimi-niminal, individual
Sing a song of sixpence
Pocket full of chits
Too many rappers be on John Gotti's dick
Now this is something that we don't rehearse
Put that rap shit second, and hip-hop first

[Ja Rule]
Easy, ain't Nann niggas spitting like me
Nor Murderers motherfuckin' INC
Niggas will pass me, look me in the face, ask me
Are y'all really holdin' weight or did somebody gas me?
Ja be the myth, Reggie hand me the fifth let me explain
Your lil' man made me give him a lift, so you ridin' with gangstas
I'm up to a whole lot of other shit
Murderers is the clique, niggas can't deal with
Try it (Hataz) you gonna get yours to the heart
Lesson tonight by the four-four
Niggas want more than a little bit, hot shit
L.L. an Red, Ja Rule with Hot Nix
I'm the best at that shit, so bitches explain this
Who ride dick so well, head game from Hell
I love making them yell, my name
Rule baby, and ain't shit gon' change, uh, uh