4 Minutes Lyrics by Juvenile

4 Minutes Lyrics

    ft. Hot Boys

    [B.G.]
    You know we don't drop hits, uh-uh
    We drop classics nigga, uh-huh
    Cash Money, c'mon, get at me nigga

    Nigga thuggin, is in my blood and my genes
    All the niggaz I fuck with they bling bling
    But yet it's my block my hood my set nigga
    Uptown is the spot where you get put to the test nigga
    Best be bout unloadin a Tec nigga
    You better protect your head, fuck the chest nigga
    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 niggaz 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 nigga

    (4, minutes, left!)

    [Juvenile]
    Dis bitch off the hook! Nigga never sleep
    Dis bitch full of crooks, they hunt for the weak
    Niggaz comin home tryin to hit 'em a lick
    Wanna bounce from a quarter ounce up to a brick
    Dem old side niggaz, them new side niggaz
    Might get loaded but they do ride niggaz
    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 bitches shakin they ass in the middle of the street
    You representin? It better be M-A-G
    Or niggaz 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 motherfuckers wearin camoflauge

    (3, minutes, left!)

    [Lil Wayne]
    Yes, one-seven nigga, look
    Niggaz 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 fuckin 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' bitch 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 niggaz 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 nigga when they come cousin
    Gun I'ma peel it nigga you can run cousin
    Gun click get hit and you get stung cousin, stung cousin

    (I hope you got the message!)

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