- 歌詞
- 專輯列表
The Lox
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One Two Three Four
[Jadakis]
One Two Three Four
Two Three Four
Three Four
[Jadakis]
Yo, you already know what I'm here for
Therefor L-O-X be the niggas that I care for
Holdin' down this foundation, Mister Jason
Balled head baby face and I stay laced and
When you pay good you play good
I'ma get this money while these fake thugs stay low
And why wouldn't I be stackin' Franks
Fifteen in the clip while you packin' shanks
(?) swingers, hair (?), fed bidders, real niggas
The little kids still dig us
Next time be careful who you bring drama to
Speaker phone in the Suburban with (?)
Pad lock, filled to the top and everything
We ain't gonna stop
We just going to squeeze through your glock
Dinero, Louch, bounce to the coup with
No trouble all my niggas bubble like goose
Or geese, nauticale fleece it aint nothin'
But now I can drop twenty-five on the piece
Butt in axe duels with whoever
Who you kidding, back to back
Like cream on the other side of Clinton
Shock treatment for the cats who can't freak it
I keep it dusted thats 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
[Styles]
Fuck the cars and and the clothes, sex and the bitch
Focus on life and niggas that run thick
Like a pack of wolves, with tools we all been frugal
This chance is second round I aint jumpin' in no bull
Fucking with the guiani's and the moles
When the money's making me hot, I move where it's cool
Our pigment is just for figment
You never see my rolls (?) moving through the triangle pyramid
This is for the cats that's like 'Who's the Lox?'
Better flow up to Yonkers nigga, choose a block
Got Arabics, Ricos, Jews and Wops
Drinking booze up the (?) tryin' to lose the cops
Same shit, where you at, but where 'you' at?
I got my first felony, holding a gat
And I've been robbed by cats, slingin' my sacks
Styles P-A-N-I-R-O, B-M-Doub, see that thug, get that doe
We ain't positive, but we ain't negative
The cops got guns, and they dont like us where we live
Take notes, I'm smokin' a roach, holding my toast
Givin' my quotes, to the shorties livin' with dope
You think it ain't real, until you caged in
And you can't hit a feel, you keep the rage in
Cuz you never made a mil' so we keep it blazin'
And the fagots on the hill, fucking niggas girls
But they keep them on the pill, a dog where you at
Cuz the honey is tight ill, everything is real
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