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  • Song Lyrics » D » Dj Clue » 1, 2, 3, 4 Lyrics
    Verse one: sheek luchion

    You on the circle line, what's wrong? ain't your yacht out yet
    Ain't you that willie, benz pushing, slash melrose cat
    Nigga please, in the hills of beverly, you find it's heavenly
    Slingin' dick to pamela anderson bitches daily
    L.o.x., when we ball
    It's pay-per-view y'all
    Straight movie
    Flee in the z3 while woozy
    Now gentlemen, do we have to get into some gangsta shit
    For me to get paid on my song, y'all just get sprayed
    Esta mointo; as a nail but on point though
    I'll blast up the loca
    For skimming on my coca
    L.o.x., in total control and power
    And everything you see us with in videos be ours
    You can't afford it, so you playa hate i see your logic
    My coat is $1500 keep your army in the closet
    As long as l-o-x keeps giving you what you need
    We gonna take it there nigga as we proceed

    Chorus (ma$e): 1, 2, 3, 4 (4x)

    Verse two: jadakiss

    Yo, you already know what i'm here for
    Therefore, l-o-x be the niggaz that i care for
    Holding down this foundation, mr. jason
    Bald head, baby faced and i stay laced and
    When you pay good, you play good, stay good
    I'ma get this money while you fake thugs stay hood
    Why wouldn't i be stacking franks
    15 in clip while you packing shanks
    Iron swinger, hair triggers, fed bidders
    Real niggaz, the lil' kids still dig us
    Next time be careful who you bring drama to
    Speaker phone in the suburban with 6 monitors
    Pad lock everything filled to the top
    We ain't gonna stop, we just gonna squeeze 'til you drop
    Paniro, luch, bounce in the coupe
    With no trouble all my niggaz bubble like goose
    Or geese, nautica fleece it ain't nothing
    But now i can drop 25 on the piece
    Butta nats do it with whoever, who you kidding?
    Back to back like green on the other side of clinton
    Shock treatments for them cats who can't freak it
    We keep 'em dusted, that's why they always try to leak it
    But peep it, that weed shit, you can keep it
    We trying to sell all the real units we can eat with

    Verse three: styles paniro

    Fuck the cars and the clothes, sex and the bitch
    Homies that got life and niggaz that run thick
    Like a pack of wolves with tools we all improve
    Chance i can drown i ain't jumping in the pool
    I ain't a fool, you fucking with the guineas and the mouls
    When the money's making me hot, i move where it's cool
    My pigment is just a figment
    You never see my ghost, move through the l-o-x triangle pyramid
    This is for them cats that's like "who's the l.o.x."
    Better float up to yonkers nigga choose a block
    Got arabics, ricans, jews and wops
    Drinking booze 'bout to drop, trying to lose the cops
    Same shit, where you at say where you at
    I got my first felony, holding my gat
    And i been robbing cats, slinging my sacks
    Styles p-a-n-i-r-o
    Bm doub., see that thug, get that dough
    We ain't positive, but we ain't negative
    The cops got guns and they don't like us where we live
    Take notes, i'm smoking a roach, holding my toast
    Giving my quotes, to the shorties living with dope
    You think it ain't real, until you're caged in and you can't get a feel
    We keep the rage in cuz we never made a mil.
    So we blazin' all the faggots on the hill
    Fuckin' niggaz girls but they keep 'em on the pill
    But dog wear your hat cuz the honey's type ill
    Everything is real