Lyrics:
bodyguards, probably in exotic cars
Gettin' the 411 from a lot of broads
You can get this money with me you ain't gotta starve
You my people with this
the 4-1-1
The dred around the corner, just try to blast Ruck and Dunn
(I knew it, bad vibes flowin' like fluid
Forget about the dough, let's do it
I see
cause I'm all that
I flip a track, because I'm so damn FAT!
I get it loose, I got juice, I spread it
I'm the best, now there, I said it
Now the 4-1-1
with this bitch and watch 'em overdose (fill 'em up yeah, yeah)
Overdose, I kill 'em slow
What's the 4-1-1, they know I be, I be 'bout whatever
You
start speakin', I wind up freakin'
Some little fleusy naked in my jacuzzi
If ya think I'm not choosy than the joke's on you
You want the 411, baby here's
a 4-barrel carb and a dual exhaust
With 4.11 gears you can really get lost
It's got safety tubes, but I ain't scared
The brakes are good, tires fair
fucking bag
(You gon' get loud, ah) are you dumb?
Probably ain't got no record player nowhere
So there you are, you getting the 411
pull throwing four's na
What's the 411 that ABC and Channel 9
What's the 114 put 50 shot's up top of Nine
I never did a still don't give
A fk who like me
penny
Very small fabric
I'm just givin' you the 4-11
With a tall mattress
Nigga grind all night till
The daylight comin' up
All my life, they said he's
a 4-barrel carb and a dual exhaust
With 4.11 gears you can really get lost
It's got safety tubes, but I ain't scared
The brakes are good, tires fair
dubbin' it (adios)
Curved all the talk shows, never doing Unsung
Mary J., '92, here's the 411
I am no dum-dum, Big L, Bloodshed
Hud 6, Google it, forgot
you say?
We hit 411 south in my Chevrolet
Hop in the back, it ain't no crime
If I get to know all of your tan lines
Yeah, you and me, backseat
[Chorus x2]
Why you all in my business
Why you really really want to know the 4-1-1
Is it cause that my game's tight
I can scoop a bitch and fuck
numerology code for the 411
Put me back into ghost mode to where flows comes from
An entirely different axis of the globe young blud
Then tell the engineer
numerology code for the 411
Put me back into ghost mode to where flows comes from
An entirely different axis of the globe young blud
Then tell the engineer
back
Now his name is Stucky Mack, tryin to fuck a black
In fact I got the 411, so you can buy a gun
Lench Mob's got the devil on the run, down with King
I reminisce back when pork and beans and hot dogs was our filet mignon
Heat a honey bun for breakfast mama playin', "What's the 411?"
We was still
it's flavor, three shots lick the glock off
BUCK BUCK BUCK, you know how it go
Grand Puba, Stud Doogie, and Alamo
So what's the 411?
Loungin black
Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah, here's the resume for the day
Check the 4-1-1 hon
Now check it yo, before we bounce on off
Like we gon' end it like this,
who hit Billie Jean
Quick to say parlay, fond of Bob Marley
You know the 411 hon', we're jammin'
So, clear the road, here comes Mr. Got-It-Going-On
Capri, here's the resume for the day
[Kid] Check the prognosis
[GPM] Here's your daily dosage
[Kid] Check the 411 on how we flip it
[GPM] Grab a bag
Ayo my lifestyle is rough
I got three sisters, four brothers
Man, ain't this enough?
But yet I gots no hero
But I got the 411 on the ghetto
Tune into
brother, I heard he's with your grandmother
I spent two weeks on 411 trying to find the phone number
I didn't go to your wake
Got the call to late
And after
got my life and Mary what's the 411
Niggas get shook when I rhyme, You best ta fuckin run
Get out the way cause my recitals suicidal
I'm the rebel
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