4 Seasons (feat. LL Cool J & Ja Rule) [feat. LL Cool J & Ja Rule]

Smoke more grass

Smoke more grass

Brick City, yo (Smoke more grass)

Yo, yo, Funk Doc straight lunatic since young

I ate paint chips, the rare moon, that pair mics, my maintenance

I battle you, then me and Meth exchange shifts

From money to your house arrest anklet

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

Bricks, be shooting fair ones with bail bonds mens

I'm constant, on that paper chase, blow zip codes from bricks to 818

Doc serve till you lickin' the plate

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

Fire thrown to the roof of you apartment

Hit ninety-five then I hide with the Waltons

Down South, the forty-four feeler (Uh, yeah, yeah)

I'm a Dolo ****, you a Polo ****

I'm Uptown shopper, you a Soho ****

Westside highway running, homo ****

I'm the sultan of the ghetto, the homicidal aficionado

I empty **** 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 (Uh) 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 **** make faces

Like they drinking Guinness

When they realize I'm not finished

I've been paid, 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 wifey over help her stretch out the kinks (Yeah, yeah)

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

The Godfathers here giving blessings to his children (Uh)

Carats shine, the world all mine

Can't believe these cats 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 swinger, I clock twelve figures

Think Giuliani's rough? I got some real shit for ****

Never been defeated, **** 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 dawgs get loose?

(Blaze one) Blaze one (Blaze one) Blaze one

Blaze, blaze, blaze one

Now four corners, 4 seasons

Four MCs with four reasons to bring this game to its knees

And while you down there, suck my dick

My whole motto is fuck it

Hit the smoke shop and blow my budget (Yeah)

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 (Yeah, yeah)

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

I'm still wild, still Tical, still gritty style, still foul, criminal, individual

Sing a song of sixpence, pocket full of chips

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 (Yeah, yeah, yeah, uh)

Easy, ain't none **** spitting like me

Nor the Murders motherfuckin' INC (Murderer)

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

Are y'all really holdin' weight or did somebody gas me? (Or what?)

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 gangsters

I'm up to a whole lot of other shit

Murderers is the clique, **** can't deal with try it (Haters)

You gon' get yours to the heart, lesson tonight by the four-four

**** want more than a little bit, hot shit

LL and Red, Ja Rule with Hot Nix (What?)

I'm the best at shit, so bitches explain this

Who ride dick so well, head game from hell

But I love making them yell my name, Rule, baby

And ain't shit gon' change (Uh)