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  2. 4, 5, 6 (Letra)

4, 5, 6 (Letra)

Curso de Violão - Fórmula Violão

[jt money]
Yo, what’s up?
What’s up baby?
Dis yo nigga
[sole’]
Nigga, where da fuck you at?
[jt money]
Mr. good dick, what you say?
[sole’]
I said where da fuck you at?!
[jt money]
What how you feel?
How you say you feel?
[sole’]
I feel like you need to get home before yo shit be outside
[jt money]
You say you daddy to come through and regulate?
What? put his thang down, what? it’s all good

[sole’]
It could be 4, 5 or 6, you bet’ not be nowhere laid up wit no bitch
You betta bring that home to momma, don’t be playin and shit
If you get horny when you out, no need for eyein’ them hoes
Why eat a burger when you got steak and potatoes at home?
A short drive is all it takes, i’m just a phone call away
Ain’t no excuses mutha fucka for you runnin astray
I give it to you when you want it aint no other’s like mine
Yo ex-bitch can’t fuck with this, so don’t be wastin’ yo time
The indian, black mix, boy like i told you before
And we can ay yi yi the fur rug on my living room floor
And ain’t nan hoe gon’ bring it like you know i’mma bring it
And ain’t nan hoe gon’ freak it like you know i’mma freak it
And ain’t nan hoe gon’ shake it like you know i’mma shake it
And aint nan hoe gon’ take it like you know i’mma take it
So don’t make me come lookin for you, pull you outta some mix
Then turn around and bust you in yo shit for 4, 5 or 6

1 – [kandi]
I don’t care if it’s 4, 5, 6, 7, 8 in the morning
Boy you better call me when you think you gettin horny
I don’t give a damn bout who you with
Just as long as you aint givin up my shit

Repeat 1

[jt money]
You know me as your player, your pipe layer, your all night stayer
All up in your sauce when you need your rocks off
Knock your socks off, baby off the chain in this bitch
Have your wide ass open while i’m slangin’ this dick
Got you lovin’ this shit, suckin and fuckin this dick
Wanna go and make some bucks for this dick
Fightin’ all in the club for this dick
I’m that player that you chose
Long as you satisfied, baby fuck them other hoes
Just keep my pussy horny so you can put it on me
Girl you know i’m the only one who can satisfy your monkey
Ain’t nobody gon’ do you like i do when i put this love stick inside you
Money man guaranteed to satisfy you
Have you open all night like a drive-through
So bring yo thang on so i can get my bang on
I hope you likes a good fuck because my game strong
And i ain’t lyin’ girl you wouldn’t if you could quit
I signs my name on that pussy, mr. good dick
That’s my shit

Repeat 1
Repeat 1

[sole’]
Now nigga what you gone do, ugh, let me put this good lovin on you
We can do everything that you want to
‘cause i like it real freaky, nigga don’t you
That’s right, don’t make no promises
Can’t find none better than mommas is
Stay wet, stay tight, keep you comin’ back
Go all night feelin’ right, you be lovin that
Hell yeah, like wanna make enough moves
Fuckin you boy like i got something to prove
Runnin loose, fuck it nigga gotta pay dues
Make you wanna tell ya boys all about whose
No talkin’ now, come get the good shit
Make you never wanna fuck another hood bitch
Have ya breakin’ off plans to come and lay me
Mutha fucka, don’t ever try and play me

Repeat 1 to fade

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4, 5, 6 (Letra)

Curso de Violão - Fórmula Violão

4, 5, 6 is in the mix – i’m hittin them with trip’s
Headcrack, time to get the bread black!
4, 5, 6 is in the mix – i’m hittin them with trip’s
Headcrack, time to get the bread!

I rolled on every cee-lo corner that i know inside the city
Kiddies, i got a fat mitt in my pocket lookin pretty
So who wanna get paid on the block? a thousand’s in the pock’
Now go and grab your knots from the stash spot
I shake them up and shake them up roll and i break em up
Two ? and a pound-cake ("yeah nigga, wake em up!")
Keepin my fingers wrapped around the joint in case niggaz
Start brawlin, because i see em fallin to the strong point
One by one they losin down the line
A fifty buck roll, a duck blows, old nigga pay me mine! ("damn nigga!")
I grab the dice, place your price, all you men are mice
Riffin as i’m sippin on a heineken and gettin nice
I shake em up they papes are gettin dead, nigga sittin on a beretta
Said he wanna bet that i don’t throw a better
Now the game is surrounded by some money hungry bitches
I put the kisses on my fists and rolled the triple sixes
And once again it be the point, that i shoot
That be puttin crazy loot, in the pocket of my army suit
Now who wanna come throw another round
I rolled a fo’, a six, hold up, now i seen a fuckin pound
Yeah you nigga know what the name of the game is
I’m in yo’ anus, cee-lo you know that shit that made a nigga famous
Because i’m on the ding-dong, i can’t go wrong
Rollin for two hours long and still rollin strong

4, 5, 6 is in the mix – i’m hittin them with trip’s
Headcrack, time to get the bread black!
4, 5, 6 is in the mix – i’m hittin them with trip’s
"bettin grants with the cee-lo champs" -> nas

I make em sweat from beginners to the vets, i’m a threat
Some niggaz double up on they fifty bets
I gotta be nice to the dice, so i’m talkin to em
I step back, gave a snap on the sidewalk and threw em
Nigga went and put his foot in the way see, and tried to ace me
Now i’ve got niggaz rollin to that bitch tracy
Yeah, but tracy ain’t so gentle, niggaz thought she was simple
And loses with two deuces and a fuckin pimple ("a loser!")
I crack another brew, sit back and watch what niggaz do
Who threw that 2-u? i’m rollin the whole fuckin crew
One by one niggaz come payin, that fell to the trey and
Furlough inside the bait, that’s what a nigga sayin
Your luck is tough, i’m makin enough to buy a kilo
Uh-oh, look out below, i think i rolled another cee-lo
Pick up my crap, niggaz don’t get back a dime of that
And keep my hand right by my waist where my nine is at
One more test, and niggaz quittin, that’s zero
Broke, cryin broke, i’m doin backstrokes in cee-notes
Crazy pockets are empty, what a god damn shame
Niggaz you know the name of the game – word the fuck up!

4, 5, 6 is in the mix – i’m hittin them with trip’s
Headcrack, time to get the bread black!
4, 5, 6 is in the mix – i’m hittin them with trip’s
"bettin grants with the cee-lo champs" -> nas

4, 5, 6 is in the mix – i’m hittin them with trip’s
Headcrack, time to get the bread black!
4, 5, 6 is in the mix – i’m hittin them with trip’s
"bettin grants with the cee-lo champs" -> nas

4-5-6 (Letra)

Foxy Brown

Foxy Brown

Curso de Violão - Fórmula Violão

[beanie seigel]
Ughh, ughh, yeah
This is beanie seigel
That philly cat playin’ wit that silly rap
Put your weight up, not your hate up, niggas
Y’all know how i play quiet towns and tie ‘em down
Haters wonderin’ how i got a position with rock
Cuz i listen to the lox and i listen then watch
While you still sittin’ in spot, ditchin’ the cops
I’m in the porsche box with fox, glistenin’ watch
Wore steel gray, lexus, gs-4
That’s an evil metal when the dog pedals to the floor
I’m routin’ down south, for my aim is to score
Eight cylinder, screamin’ ‘fuck the law!’

Got a tank full of gas, trunk full of cash
Hammers in the stash, scanners in the dash
Radar detectors, troopers can’t find us
We bubble down atl and hit the ‘linas
Then get clubbed with some dirty south thugs
Go all out thugs, go in your house thugs
Talk shit, put blood in your mouth thugs
36 south stuck, stay on route thugs
You know how mac play, quiet town, tie it down
I supply it now, by the pound
Might front you a cue if you buy a pound
If you didn’t try it then, why would you try it now?
Then cuz mac rat wouldn’t fire a round into your crown
I lay you down and retire you clown

And i clap niggas, nat niggas kid a 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
Hey you pretty motherfuckers stay stuck in the mirror
And you weak ass niggas only buss out the fear
I know y’all softer than them feathers that they stuf in the dear
I pack two barettas, never bust in their ear
Twist your shit back, spit ‘til my gats is back
Pack four pieces like a kit kat. heh, get that?
Cop cris’ by the six-pack, range rov?’ dot six that
Benz coupe, drop six that
Buggy eye seven come out? shit, took the six back
Switch the double r, the double r’s are, gotta get that
You see how we play, pop cris’ on the e-way
Soakin’ the seat, gettin’ drunk with glee
Or the sharp bar, grill simon, poppin’ dom p
Why you chicken when you chasin’ your how with hot tea
Niggas flashin’ back money like it’s they money
Slap 500 on back of a three-twenty
I’m bringin’ it to any nigga tryin’ to shoot games (yeah)
With them bullshit buggy-eyed kits and 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 recruit this
My flow drewl out like a old nigga toothless
Who would believe they pump bleek with ritilin
Too hyped up, but weed calm my adrenaline
Roll day on the strip, sk in the crib
Hundred crack viles, playin’ the benj’
Nickel nine gleam, like this armoral-ed up
My squad be armed up, gotcha niggas’ arms up
Who the fuck want what? me and bean’s trumped up
Witcha town under seige, dillinger in the sleave
If my gun jam, you niggas squeeze on me
You niggas them cats got the code-d’s on me
I’m on to my off game, leave the stadium for in stores
Floss chains and i pimp whores, stay smoked out
Shirt be poked out with the slums knows eight
Six to jump out, you eat what you spit
Motherfucker die clean
For you actin’ tought cats, but in your heart you scream
I read your body languo
You want violence and don’t wanna mingle
You want a challange get it brought to for every angle
This shit’ll slow ‘em down, i bet that
Ya up front dough and your six backed out, motherfucker

[foxy brown]
Sassy fox some brick money, cop 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 a little cleave’ and breeze past the cops
You talk slick but 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 on your glands
Shit, i’m in the v twinz ballin’ them tramps
Y’all hoes greasy, so i keep bitch easy
Rookie, fuck you know about glocks and pock’ books?
You know na na rock that shit, parada that shit
And scotch that shit, dolce gabba that shit
Hollow points, top that shit, fuck you tryin’ to aim
Pop that shit, yeah, nigga, fox got that shit
You see the ice wrist shit, can you cop that shit
Channel crocodile and ostrich shit, whoa
You know my style, i be spendin’ they cash
And i’ll show their little dick some celebrity ass
And get ‘em a brick, i know what style to get them niggas shit real
Well, fuck, i let ‘em live and lick the tip of my shit
To remind ‘em of some rose petals, candles, and shit
Or some hydro like the nigga grew a plant in my shit
So that’s what it is, that’s why them hoes mad at my shit
See me wildin’ in the four-six, stylin’ on them bum-ass
Goddess mc, 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
Wear y’all out then air y’all out
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
Cuz i fucked the nigga and pay y’all niggas
Shit, what the fuck