Lyrics:
four
Five o'clock, six o'clock, you can hit your boy
If you ain't the type of bitch talking 'bout relationships
Hit me up, hit me up on that late night
Come to the Cabaret.
And as for me, and as for me,
I made my mind up, back in Chelsea,
When I go, I'm going like Elsie.
Start by admitting, From
canary yellow stones, I'm puttin' on that stuff
Diggin' in her back, pull out my money, make a bitch bust a nut
Came out the bando just to buy diapers,
born, born in Bethlehem
Children go where I send you
Oh, how shall I send you?
I'm gonna send you four by four
Four for the four that stood
though
You stuck in the friend zone, I tell that four-five the fifth, ayy
Hunnid bands inside my shorts, DeChino the shit, ayy
Try to stuff it all in
just upshift the 6, convert the V4 to a broomstick
Though I tarry through the valley of death, my Lord give me pasture
If you want to be a master in
close distance
In the middle of the KR, 'cause I'm comfortable when I'm in the trenches
I can eat or spend a band or I'ma spend a ticket
But either
Always
The Ink Spots
Written by Irving Berlin
This version not released as a single
Five versions charted in 1926, two in 1944, and two more in
Whodini, launchin' rockets in the 90s!
Now I remember in the days of way back
With just a 4 track
With no SP-12 to make tracks
Wearing leather
them bands
Finesse your man up out them bands, your mans
Goddamn he broke, he need an ambulance
I'm so turned up in this bitch
I'm doing my damn dance
I
Come to the cabaret.
And as for me,
As for me
I made my mind up, back in Chelsea,
When I go, I'm going like Elsie
Start by admitting from cradle
when you fail
The blind feel a nigga like I'm speaking brail
1 shot (2shot)
3 shot (4 shot)
5 shot (6 shot 6 shot)
1 shot (2shot)
3 shot (4 shot)
5 shot
5, 4, 5, 4, 3, 2 penguins of the world unite
Strength in numbers, we can get it right
One time!
(We are a part of the rhythm nation)
With Music by
(twenty-five)
Kill ten, rubber band grip (brrr)
Up early in the morning, trapping (trap, trap)
You can get 'em while you asking (ask)
How many chickens?
Old Bird Dog (Bonus track 4)
Sometimes I'm mad at the world
Mad at this town
Mad 'cause I can't lose the same five pounds
That I've been tryin'
girl, low-key classy
I gotta flip her (flip her)
I ain't here for no pictures (nah)
Put Huncho in the middle (Huncho!)
Young nigga popping them bands
a four
And I smoke cigars, it ain't just for the show
I'm blessed from the do', and known for my stidile
I send a nigga baby mamma home with a smidile
I threw one band, two bands, three bands, four bands, five bands, 6 bands
cgregar cuatro más, he gonna do running man
The Glock was kind of heavy,
fine by me
She say she only fucked like 4-5 niggas, so you know you gotta multiply by 3
Nobody's perfect, uh, nobody's perfect, ay, ay, uh
But
on your floor
You just happy I made it
'Cause champagne poppin' yo door
4AM in that mansion
10PM in that car
5AM in that Maybach
Four G's on me, rose
four ways
My pavilion, Saint-Tropez, yeah, alright
Why is it so hard for you to cry when we rich?
I put the sideline in front 'cause I can't argue
Boy I'm talking about
Bands bands bands bands
I just got to get to the bands
Four pockets full
Make you pull up your pants
Rubber band man
Go on run
But in case you ain't too sure a knowin'
We're gonna let you listen to us one by one
Four brothers who are blowin' our horns
How'd ya do, I'm
The cold world that we in, is full of pressure and pain
Enough of me, nigga, now listen to Game
Used to see Five-O, throw the crack by the bench (hey,
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