Lyrics:
long four-fifth
Hand glide thru your hood in the six
Road call for my niggas who you wit? (Thug Shit)
Road call for my niggas who you wit? (Thug Shit)
Big, Big Henny for the drink
These bitches washed fresh up out the sink
Went from stilletos, to diamonds and minks
4,5,6 is my bank
4,5,6 is my bank
from my secret bars
Grow large and tie the heavy key out
How's that for how does the wife of Washington
Think you're better off cutting her off
Like
Look for me by moonlight;
Watch for me by moonlight;
I'll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way!
Iv
She twisted her hands
business not having no business
When some of this business be hittin' me up
I stand by on the stand by
I get it done with my hands tied
I'm big Khern$ yea
a compliment
I'd rather do a 5 to 10
Nigga fore I lose my life
Go out in a blaze of glory
Squezing with my trigga tight
Young loke, and gun smoke, and done choke
throat cut
I'm low on fetty, and I got to get paid
I want it all, so go on, and empty the safe
My homies in the lobby, hand on the 4-5
Don't even think
whole life, so-
People are so burnt out, life can be so fleeting
People that shut down their laptop at five, want that balance in life, they don't work
Fee fi fo crib
I need three, five, four, cribs
At least three five for a gig
At least three, five, four whips
Need tall racks Yao Ming bruv
So please
five-oh hit the front door
Got me chillin like a star
Out the ro ro
Place anotha hand on my Georgia bull
But when I got out the truck all the hoes froze
never had me like Christina Aguiler-y
But catch me down the Westside, driving like Halle Berry
Or the FDR, in the seat of my car
Screaming out
never had me like Christina Aguiler-y
But catch me down the Westside, driving like Halle Berry
Or the FDR, in the seat of my car
Screaming out
of stangers
Hand on my 4-5 that's what the fame does
I'm probably wrong but I'll never know it till I'm gone
From out the ghetto where the jealous
another phone call. But she's away I'm out drinking rather heavily. I had about four or five vats of liquor. I'm stumbling home. Right. It's like no o'clock
You been out four hours, straight dolo rolling
But you notice, people in a brown datsun
They windows roll down and they holding
Now you bleeding out
to blow up
If you need a tight fade go to Phil Good Cuts
Give a shot out to my older brother Hump
4 15's always bumping in the trunk
Like 11/5 I be
Place to go
Place to go
Said I ain't really got no place to go
Place to go
Place to go
But I ain't on my own
Cause I got dogs
I got shooters four, five
We are the light
I'm God's hit man, Chopard wristband
New York crown jewel, no if-and's, top five
I'm the one, two, three, four and the fifth man
all V lone genius
Born to ball, believe this
Balls to the wall be my thesis
Chew your ass out like I was teethin'
Every word checked, every letter, bruh
hands high
[Redman]
Yo.. yo yo
I don't brownnose out of town hoes
I'm up around fo' with the crowbar to the five point oh
I get bagged, I'm John Doe,
yeah
This my secret weapon
Nothing up my sleeve
Still call me a magician
Got just what when you need
Some cheat sheet or genie
ha ha
Pop out the the cap
in the chamber
Preoccupied with homicide
My life's in danger
Rollin' down a 4-5, beware of strangers
Hand on my 45, that's what the fame does
I'm
by a single lightbulb
Swung through a you-turn and stopped in a cloud of dust
I opened the door and got out
But my benefactor made no move to follow
drought
They gone want four to take me out
Five plus one need six on the route
Movado watch the hands
Change up all the plans
Keep em' like ohhh
He back
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