4-5-6 Lyrics - Foxy Brown

Ughh ughh yeah 

This is Beanie Seigel 

That Philly cat playin' wit that silly rap 

Put your weight up not your hate up niggas 

You know how you play quiet towns and tie 'em down 

Haters wonderin' how I got my position with rock 

'Cause I listen to The Lox and I to watch 

While you still sittin' in spot ditchin' the cops 

I'm in the Porsche Box with Fox listen and watch 

War still gray, Lexus, GS4 

Doesn't even meddle when the dogg pedal to the floor 

I'm routin' down South, for my aim it to score 

Eight cylinder, screamin' 'Fuck the law!' 

Got a tank full of gas, trunk full of cash 

Hammies in the stash, scandels in the dash 

Radar detectors, troopers can't find us 

We bubbled down ATL and hit the 'Linas 

Then get clubbed with some Dirty South thugs 

Ball out thugs, go in your house thugs 

Talk shit, put blood in your mouth thugs 

36 South thugs, stay on route thugs 

You know how Mac play, quiet town, tie it down 

I supply it now, by the pound 

Might front you with a cube if you buy a pound 

If you didn't try it then, why would you try it now? 

Then 'cause Mac rap, wouldn't fire a round 

Til you frown, I lay you down and retire you clown 

And I clap niggas, Mac niggas kiss the dirt 

Pat-pat with the deuce deuce, it'll work 

Bitch ass niggas wearin' thongs and skirts 

Catch 'em early in the mornin' while they goin' to work 

You pretty motherfuckers stay stuck in the mirror 

And you weak ass niggas only buss out the fair 

I know y'all softer than them feathers that get stuffed in the rear 

I pack barettas, never bust in their ear 

Twist your shit back, spit til my gat sit back 

Pack four pieces like a Kit Kat. Heh, get that? 

Cock Cris bottle like a six-pack, Range Roll dot six that 

Benz Coupe, drop six that 

Buggy eye seven come out? Shit, took the six pack 

Switch the Double are, the Double are's are, gotta get that 

You see how we play, pop Cris on the E-Way 

Soakin' the sea, gettin' drunk with glee 

Only the sharp bar, grill Simon, pop Don P 

While you chickin' when you chasin' your how with hot tea 

Niggas flashin' that money like it's they money 

Slack 500 on back of a tree twenty 

I'm bringin' it to any nigga tryin' to servine (yeah) 

With them bullshit buggy I kiss 'em CDs 

Memphis Bleek: 

Check it out, yo, yo 

Well, I'm a lil' nigga don't speak 

I tote heat, here to shut down your whole operation on the street 

Bleek, you know niggas just had to recrute this 

My flow drew out like a old nigga toothless 

Who want to believe they pump Bleek with 'Renaline 

Too hyped up but weed calm my adrenaline 

Roll day on the strip, SK in the crib 

Honey crack valve playin' the binge 

Nickel nine gleam, like this armor rolled up 

My squad be armed up, gotcha niggas' arms up 

Who the fuck want what? Me and Bean's trumped up 

Witcha town underseige, dillenger in your sleave 

My gun jammed, you niggas squeeze on me 

You niggas them cats thata call these on me 

I'm on on my off game, leave the stadium for in stores 

Floss chains and I pimp whores, they smoked out 

Shirt be poked out, when the slums know eight 

Six to jump out, you eat what you spit 

Motherfucker die clean before you actin' tought cat 

But in your heart you scream, I read your body languo 

You want balance and a water mangle 

You want a challange get a broad to every angle 

This shit is slowed down, I bet that 

Ya upfront dough, in your six bet that, motherfucker 

Sassy Fox some brick money, caught me a drop 

You know how I run it, 600, glassy top 

Rock them light gray wrist shit, flash the rocks 

The red, the yellow, the green, causin' traffic stops 

Bitch, please, never freeze, gonna blast the glock 

Then I show all them to plead and breeze past the cops 

You talk slick, suck dick for money in y'all hand 

I'm like 'Bitch, I got more money than your man' 

While you get your knees scraped up, cum all over your glands 

Shit, I'm in the be Twinz ballin' them tramps 

y'all hoes greasy, so I keep bitch easy 

Rookie, what the fuck you know about glocks and a pop book? 

You know Na Na rock that shit, Perrot that shit 

And Scotch that shit, don't see about that shit 

Hollow points, top that shit, fuck tryin' to aim 

Pop that shit, yeah, nigga, Fox got that shit 

You see the ice wrist shit, can you cop that shit 

Shannell crocodile ostrich shit, whoa 

You know my style, I be spinnin' they calves 

And I'll show that little dick, some celebrity ass 

Get 'em a brick, I know what style to get them niggas ship brick 

Well, fuck, I let 'em live and lick the tip of my shit 

To remind 'em with some rose petals, candles, and shit 

Bust some hydro like the nigga grew up playin' my shit 

So that's what it is, why them hoes mad at my shit 

See me wildin' in the four-six, stylin' on them bum-ass 

Goddess in the sea, y'all bitches is littles Foxes 

See my girls' friends, tossin' they little watches 

Cris? I pops it. Fuckin' a nigga topless 

Cats? I fouls on. Hoes? I styles on, nigga 

Why y'all laughin'? 'Ey y'all laugh 

Over here? Hustle from where, clear all out 

Shit, greyhound bitch, stay down bitch 

And I know Jigga see me here to lay down shit 

I will spray y'all niggas, waste y'all niggas 

'Cause I fucked the nigga and pay y'all niggas 

Yeah, what the fuck