Lyrics:
the mari-ju-wana grows
'Cross the railroad tracks of Persia
Down the hills and up the dale
Had a CJ-5 with a four-wheel drive
And Smokey on my tail.
Well, he picked
mile, Momma!
We stuck into four wheel drive, baby!
Here we come!
Whoo!
Hill
Frankly, it's a rap, no bargain deals
I drive a four-wheel ride with foreign wheels
(Throw it up) Baby it's Brick City, you heard of that
We
Hill
Frankly, it's a rap, no bargain deals
I drive a four-wheel ride with foreign wheels
(Throw it up) Baby it's Brick City, you heard of that
We
They want me
P. Miller wheels
Iced out grills
The house on the lake cost at least six mill
Dude your too small
Better get some hills
You messing with
I'm a Southern ass nigga drive fifty whips
Ten bikes customized everything we get
I'm a fly nigga money and my jewels be glistenin'
Twenty fours
'cause you want the crown
You fuckin' clown
I keep it real no more beef with Cypress Hill
Now we super friends makin' super ends
WESTSIIDE
[Shaq ]
for sister to act like lauryn hill
frankly it's a back, no bargain deals
i drive a four wheel ride with foreign wheels
going up
baby, it's brick city,
the club until a quarter to five
Come home with a thug in your daddy’s 4 wheel drive
What daddy don’t know can’t make daddy cry
So I guess it’s just you
the wheel settle on a hill
Tek another hill
Get a madder deal
Yeh they na guh deal
Make another ill record
For the record, when I record I can't be reckoned
(We're on a mission from Rod)
(One, two, three, four)
(Don't think it's quite bloody funny at all)
(Don't know what you're laughing about)
Life
(We're on a mission from Rod)
(One, two, three, four)
(Don't think it's quite bloody funny at all)
(Don't know what you're laughing about)
Life
daddy's money
So you'll always get by
There's a little bit of hip
Missing from you're hop
You're from beverly hills stop
Pretending you're not
You're
the grammar
But right now I'm like baking soda, armed with a hammer
Summertime comin, now they wonder what I drive next
Represent for big niggas, 3-4-5-X
Wide
phone?
Damn my phone died, can you put it in my man's phone?
Damn his car died too, can you drive my mans home?
Where the girls in the club with
whole shit, feel your clothes dampeing
Dancing in a line of four wheel drives we lamping
The ? arms length up in the draw paneling
Or unraveling the truth
"Ay Foxx, we just livin' our life right?"
4 and 3 and 2 and 1
4 and 3 and 2 and 1
"Weezy, Jus Blaze"
Now everybody let's get dumb, dumb de dumb
Dumb
spoke sweeter
And I-
I dug my key into the side (to the side)
Of his pretty little souped-up four-wheel drive
Carved my name into his leather seats
ounce
I had to hit the boulevard make my drop bounce
I had to three wheel on the four, let them boys know
Ima hit the boulevard slow and tip toe
With that
ounce
I had to hit the boulevard make my drop bounce
I had to three wheel on the four, let them boys know
Ima hit the boulevard slow and tip toe
With that
yeah I was lovin' it, but not old enough drive
Parkin' lot pimpin' from the passenger side
I use to walk everywhere I had to show up
Shoe hills, one
Hanging out the window front and central like a late-night Wendy's drive through
Tweeters, speakers, jeekers fiendin', diamond in the back my nigga
I got
Of his pretty little souped-up four-wheel drive
Carved my name into his leather seats
I took a Louisville slugger to both head lights
I slashed a hole in
this in the club, baby, you got to get up
Thug niggas, drug dealers, yeah, they giving it up
Lowlife, yo' life, boy, we living it up
Taking chances
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