Juvenile - 4 Minutes lyrics

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Juvenile - 4 Minutes lyrics

(feat. Hot Boys) [B.G.] You know we don't drop hits, uh-uh We drop cla**ics n***a, uh-huh Cash Money, c'mon, get at me n***a n***a thuggin, is in my blood and my genes All the n***az I f** with they bling bling But yet it's my block my hood my set n***a Uptown is the spot where you get put to the test n***a Best be bout unloadin a Tec n***a You better protect your head, f** the chest n***a I run with the k**ers guerillas and the headbusters I grew up with murderers and hustlers you can't trust 'em I been cut-throatin n***az 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***a (4, minutes, left!) [Juvenile] Dis b**h off the hook! n***a never sleep Dis b**h full of crooks, they hunt for the weak n***az comin home tryin to hit 'em a lick Wanna bounce from a quarter ounce up to a brick Dem old side n***az, them new side n***az Might get loaded but they do ride n***az 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**hes shakin they a** in the middle of the street You representin? It better be M-A-G Or n***az 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**ers wearin camoflauge (3, minutes, left!) [Lil Wayne] Yes, one-seven n***a, look n***az 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 can*l My grill, platinum; necklace, platinum Rolex, platinum; Hot Boy, ask him Blunts, we pa** '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**in 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**h a** 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***az 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***a when they come cousin Gun I'ma peel it n***a you can run cousin Gun click get hit and you get stung cousin, stung cousin (I hope you got the message!)