DJ Clue

DJ Clue - 1, 2, 3, 4

rate me

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

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