4-5-6 Lyrics by Foxy Brown

4-5-6 Lyrics

    [beanie seigel]
    Ughh, ughh, yeah
    This is beanie seigel
    That philly cat playin' wit that silly rap
    Put your weight up, not your hate up, niggas
    Y'all know how i play quiet towns and tie 'em down
    Haters wonderin' how i got a position with rock
    Cuz i listen to the lox and i listen then watch
    While you still sittin' in spot, ditchin' the cops
    I'm in the porsche box with fox, glistenin' watch
    Wore steel gray, lexus, gs-4
    That's an evil metal when the dog pedals to the floor
    I'm routin' down south, for my aim is to score
    Eight cylinder, screamin' 'fuck the law!'

    Got a tank full of gas, trunk full of cash
    Hammers in the stash, scanners in the dash
    Radar detectors, troopers can't find us
    We bubble down atl and hit the 'linas
    Then get clubbed with some dirty south thugs
    Go all out thugs, go in your house thugs
    Talk shit, put blood in your mouth thugs
    36 south stuck, stay on route thugs
    You know how mac play, quiet town, tie it down
    I supply it now, by the pound
    Might front you a cue if you buy a pound
    If you didn't try it then, why would you try it now?
    Then cuz mac rat wouldn't fire a round into your crown
    I lay you down and retire you clown

    And i clap niggas, nat niggas kid a dirt
    Pat-pat with the deuce deuce, it'll work
    Bitch ass niggas wearin' thongs and skirts
    Catch 'em early in the mornin' while they goin' to work
    Hey you pretty motherfuckers stay stuck in the mirror
    And you weak ass niggas only buss out the fear
    I know y'all softer than them feathers that they stuf in the dear
    I pack two barettas, never bust in their ear
    Twist your shit back, spit 'til my gats is back
    Pack four pieces like a kit kat. heh, get that?
    Cop cris' by the six-pack, range rov?' dot six that
    Benz coupe, drop six that
    Buggy eye seven come out? shit, took the six back
    Switch the double r, the double r's are, gotta get that
    You see how we play, pop cris' on the e-way
    Soakin' the seat, gettin' drunk with glee
    Or the sharp bar, grill simon, poppin' dom p
    Why you chicken when you chasin' your how with hot tea
    Niggas flashin' back money like it's they money
    Slap 500 on back of a three-twenty
    I'm bringin' it to any nigga tryin' to shoot games (yeah)
    With them bullshit buggy-eyed kits and cds

    [memphis bleek]
    Check it out, yo, yo
    Well, i'm a lil' nigga don't speak, i tote heat
    Here to shut down your whole operation on the street
    Bleek, you know niggas just had to recruit this
    My flow drewl out like a old nigga toothless
    Who would believe they pump bleek with ritilin
    Too hyped up, but weed calm my adrenaline
    Roll day on the strip, sk in the crib
    Hundred crack viles, playin' the benj'
    Nickel nine gleam, like this armoral-ed up
    My squad be armed up, gotcha niggas' arms up
    Who the fuck want what? me and bean's trumped up
    Witcha town under seige, dillinger in the sleave
    If my gun jam, you niggas squeeze on me
    You niggas them cats got the code-d's on me
    I'm on to my off game, leave the stadium for in stores
    Floss chains and i pimp whores, stay smoked out
    Shirt be poked out with the slums knows eight
    Six to jump out, you eat what you spit
    Motherfucker die clean
    For you actin' tought cats, but in your heart you scream
    I read your body languo
    You want violence and don't wanna mingle
    You want a challange get it brought to for every angle
    This shit'll slow 'em down, i bet that
    Ya up front dough and your six backed out, motherfucker

    [foxy brown]
    Sassy fox some brick money, cop me a drop
    You know how i run it, 600, glassy top
    Rock them light gray wrist shit, flash the rocks
    The red, the yellow, the green, causin' traffic stops
    Bitch please, never freeze, gonna blast the glock
    Then i show a little cleave' and breeze past the cops
    You talk slick but suck dick for money in y'all hand
    I'm like 'bitch, i got more money than your man'
    While you get your knees scraped up, cum all on your glands
    Shit, i'm in the v twinz ballin' them tramps
    Y'all hoes greasy, so i keep bitch easy
    Rookie, fuck you know about glocks and pock' books?
    You know na na rock that shit, parada that shit
    And scotch that shit, dolce gabba that shit
    Hollow points, top that shit, fuck you tryin' to aim
    Pop that shit, yeah, nigga, fox got that shit
    You see the ice wrist shit, can you cop that shit
    Channel crocodile and ostrich shit, whoa
    You know my style, i be spendin' they cash
    And i'll show their little dick some celebrity ass
    And get 'em a brick, i know what style to get them niggas shit real
    Well, fuck, i let 'em live and lick the tip of my shit
    To remind 'em of some rose petals, candles, and shit
    Or some hydro like the nigga grew a plant in my shit
    So that's what it is, that's why them hoes mad at my shit
    See me wildin' in the four-six, stylin' on them bum-ass
    Goddess mc, y'all bitches is littles foxes
    See my girls' friends, tossin' they little watches
    Cris? i pops it. fuckin' a nigga topless
    Cats? i fouls on. hoes? i styles on, nigga
    Wear y'all out then air y'all out
    Over here? hustle from where, clear all out
    Shit, greyhound bitch, stay down bitch
    And i know jigga see me here to lay down shit
    I will spray y'all niggas, waste y'all niggas
    Cuz i fucked the nigga and pay y'all niggas
    Shit, what the fuck

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