[Intro] 4, 3, 2, 1 [Verse 1] I got a hustle that's unmatchable A swag that can't be touched I got real blood diamonds Snatch this chain, you gon' get bussed Every thang I spit be sick So I dun fucked tha world up Got respect across the world But I don't never get enough Trigger finger soft as tissue Boy, lil' boy don't call my bluff I got bitches like Delicious Squirt when they catch a nut I got Polo on my body Red bottoms on my feet I got bitches in Milwaukee Detroit, all tha way to Flint I got kush like Wiz, so you know a nigga lit Came out tha pussy bout my biz so I gotta represent In tha cage full of rage And now it's time to vent They took Lil Bleek away from me So now it's time to sin huh [Hook] 4, 3, 2, 1 Realest nigga at this shit [Verse 2] I got deals on tha table And they talkin big ol' money Time to do some big ol' stuntin' Hit tha ground, and keep runnin' Real shit back so won't you hear it now Got all my real niggas in heaven Smilin', lookin' down This for my niggas in tha kitchen mane Who cookin' now Nigga got that charge Who sittin' in central booking now Mane they say 2Pac back I'm tha closet, hands down But I don't rap beef Say sumin' bout me You gon' get laid down I never switch I took my lick and I laid down So many shitted on ya boy But they gon' pay now And I'm tha man from East Oakland to Chi-town Nothing but Boosie when they ride When they ride 'round That crack music nigga I go hard nigga [Verse 3] It's so addictive, explicit Contagious Talk about lickin', killin in these streets I'm so outrageous I'm a army by myself I put labels on my back I put candy on my whip And I put paper on a rat Got a gift to touch some hearts And I'm gon' thank tha man for that These couple years been hard But bitch I'm almost back I like 'em thick I like 'em slim I like 'em just right fine I like my head slow motion And look in my eyes Minor setback for a major comeback You know I wasn't lying If I ain't fuck yo bitch You know I wasn't tryin' My secret weapon Iviona And she top of tha line Learned tha business up in prison I'm on top of my grind My circle small Cause half my dawgs fightin' 1st degree murder Ready to get back to the streets And light that 1st degree purple Promised my niggas in the pen I was gon' touch and act a beast They ain't comin' like I'm comin' Now tha game belong to me Don't want Bobby by tha pound I don't want Whitney by tha key I just want my 7 kids who mean tha world to me Yo girl a freak She ate my meat, and ya'll married Ratchet No more walkin' round with 50 g's Plastic Got a BB shirt on with' her hair down Jazzy A hundred grand a night Fuckin' right I'm still happy I'm still happy Tote a pack
Read the complete lyrics to "4, 3, 2, 1" by Boosie Badazz, C-Murder from the album "Penitentiary Chances" in 2016. On Lyrks you can follow along with the full text, explore the artist's discography, and discover related songs. The track is often categorized under Rap.
"4, 3, 2, 1" is performed by Boosie Badazz, C-Murder. from the album "Penitentiary Chances" in 2016 This page provides the full lyric text for fans who want to sing along, study the songwriting, or compare versions across releases. Lyrks organizes lyrics by artist and song slug so you can bookmark and share a stable URL.
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"4, 3, 2, 1" is credited to Boosie Badazz, C-Murder. Songwriting credits may include additional writers listed on the release; check the credits section on this page for linked collaborators.
"4, 3, 2, 1" appears on "Penitentiary Chances" in 2016.
Visit the Boosie Badazz, C-Murder artist page at /artist/boosie-badazz for biography, popular tracks, and links to more lyric pages.
