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Ll Cool J

Genres: Hip-Hop

Four Seasons Lyrics - Ll Cool J

Bitch! 

Brick city, yo 

Yo, yo funk doc straight lunatic since young 

I ate paint chips the rare moon 

That pair mics, my maintenance 

I battle you and then me and meth exchange shifts 

For money, to your house arrest anklet 

I take it all, if not, here's a thousand 

Bricks, be shooting fair ones with bail bonds men 

I'm constant, on that paper chase 

Blow zip codes from bricks to 8-1-8 

Doc serve til you lickin' the plate 

Battle royal, in the ring smoking like doc out of oil 

Fire thrown to the roof of you apartment 

Hit 95 then I hide with the waltons 

Down south, the forty-four feela 

I'm a dolo nigga, you a polo nigga 

I'm an uptown shopper, you a soho nigga 

Westside highway running, homo nigga 

 

I'm the sultan of the ghetto 

The homicidal aficionado 

I empty niggas out like cristal bottles, uh 

When I battle, I'm breaking bentleys down to gravel 

I got the heat right here, we ain't got to travel 

I'm bigger than producers, I figured out you losers 

I knew my longevity confuse ya 

Big paper game, come on run into these flames 

Recognize the power of the royal king james 

Phantom menace, that's why niggas make faces like they drinking guinness 

When they realize I'm not finished 

I've been paid, I've been platinum, been spittin', uh 

Been eatin', been ballin' and you know I'm shittin' 

Platinum links, chinky-eyed blonde haired honeys sippin' rainbow colored drinks 

Black thugs with white minks, ready to jack the brink 

Bend your little wifee over help her stretch out the kinks 

That's why ya niggas freeze when I step up in the building 

The godfather's here giving blessings to his children 

Carats shine, the world all mine 

Can't believe these cats is poppin' shit about papers in their rhymes 

Or bodies they collect, black gotti shot a tech 

Them gangsta visions will have you ass up in an ambulance 

Cats ain't live, look up in my eyes 

We can do this one more time, I'll let you decide 

The alize swigger, I clock twelve figgas 

Think giuliani's rough I got some real shit for niggas 

Never been defeated, niggas retreated 

Made the choice to be seated until my mission's completed 

Get loose, get loose, method man get loose 

What the world gonna do when my dogs get loose? 

(blaze one) blaze one (blaze one) blaze one 

Blaze, blaze, blaze one 

 

Now four corners, four seasons 

Four mc's with four reasons to bring this game to its knees 

And why you down there, suck my dick 

My whole motto is fuck it 

Hit the smoke shop and blow my budget 

Mc's abusing my bitch, using my shit 

I'm hanging off the roof with one hand, losing my grip 

Now y'all don't wanna see me do that, now do you? 

Go straight cuckoo and terrorize rap, do you? 

I do my best work stressed out and under pressure 

Deep inside the mind is where you'll find my buried treasure 

I'm still wild, still tical 

Still gritty style, foul, crimi-niminal, individual 

Sing a song of sixpence 

Pocket full of chits 

Too many rappers be on john gotti's dick 

Now this is something that we don't rehearse 

Put that rap shit second, and hip-hop first 

 

Easy, ain't nann niggas spitting like me 

Nor murderers motherfuckin' inc 

Niggas will pass me, look me in the face, ask me 

Are y'all really holdin' weight or did somebody gas me? 

Ja be the myth, reggie hand me the fifth let me explain 

Your lil' man made me give him a lift 

So you ridin' with gangstas 

I'm up to a whole lot of other shit 

Murderers is the clique, niggas can't deal with 

Try it (hataz) you gonna get yours to the heart 

Lesson tonight by the four-four 

Niggas want more than a little bit, hot shit 

L.l. an red 

Ja rule with hot nix I'm the best at that shit 

So bitches explain this 

We ride dick so well, head game from hell 

I love making them yell, my name 

Rule baby, and ain't shit gon' change, uh, uh 

Writer:

Copyright: Atv Music Publishing Llc, Universal Music Publishing Group, Roba Music, Sony