Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song 4.6, artist - Mob Figaz
Date of issue: 19.02.2007
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
4.6 |
I’m on a mission for money, dreams n’Bentleys n’Ferrarris |
Influenced by the biggest ballas now bitches wanna call us Picture me with all the cheese mansion lookin overseas |
Pushin limosuines n’stackin hunits n’g’z |
Dubbz on my sports car six car garage |
Its like a mirage when you step off my back yard |
Rollies whinnin diamonds shinnin I’m gettin mine |
Them models you see on TV fuckin em’all the time |
Zippin on $ 200 bottles of champainge |
Till I’m dead in the game wont a damn thang change |
I’m a boss bitch thats why I floss bitch |
And we leave from the club you gettin tossed bitch |
Besta believe I’m a thug keep it crackin n’stackin my mill |
Taller than (??) (??) n’roll like a back down |
Fuck goin’back to jail |
Bitch I’m back to the hotel in my V12 wit mo’kill |
Yall dont wanna see me in my 4.6 |
Twenty inch rims with the all chrome kit |
Ballin like king tut two rollies |
Mac like goldies somebody better hold me Yall dont wanna see me in my 4.6 |
twenty inch rims with the all chrome kit |
Ballin like king tut nigga what |
Two rollies somebody better hold me You see me sliddin up not givin a fuck we done been up Throwin up the mob down the block so bring it up |
I be flossin in my Mercedes wit yo lady |
Got her tossin zippin on Baileys we do it daily |
It aint NOOOO bitch livin up on this earth that can play me It aint NOOOO snitch livin up on this earth that can hate me I be sideways shakin dick up on the highway |
Havin it my way I think it was a Friday better yet a Thursday |
Thinkin about the first day my CLK went to hit the bay |
It was a true figga young mob figga make mans skrilla |
Gettin close up on the trigga |
Yall dont wanna see me in my 4.6 seee |
TVs in the back seat |
Now police wanna catch me Cuz I’m livin large $ 80,000 cars |
A young ghetto star no matter who you are |
I put dubbz on my Benz got my 64 lifted |
Swimmin in money because I’m gifted |
Livin the life of a rap star Bentleys n’double R’s |
Ride luxury cars flossin wit allstars |
Catch me overseas counting g’z and they hate it Mad cuz a thug nigga done made it Wanna see me down and out bank account on rip |
You players haters you can suck a fat dick |
I put the gat to yo lip breath smellin like shit no breathin |
To the wizard of oz hard courage is what you needin |
Beat up n’get up out it before I draw down |
Wit a 44 caliber desert eagle got shit locked down |
Like a dog pound and we all down |
For that dubb C L mafia loc |
Aint no stoppin us loc |
Not unless you poppin us loc |
I’m a floss across town like the president |
Flip a yay and dont touch no evidence |
Baller Style! |
I’m a cap pilla you fuckin wit some real killas |
Ride through my 9 milla on cock like a dike bitch |
I’m bellin it tight bitch |
My profile aint rightous I’m a thug lord |
I got whatever you need like a drug store |
Hard core killin off all enimies |
Them dollies crackin speed knum you on my g’z |
I be ballin like Rasheed Wallace but fuck college |
All a nigga need is my heat and some of this street knowledge |
Get some dollas straight thuged out |
Put up in yo chest n’still holla all in my mouth tryin to get popped out |
But I burn rubber on hood rats we ridin high speed |
Cuz I like to drop E off Remy and weed |
I’m through the town like the HIV |
Regulatin strikin dirty wit a fake ID |
Instead of hatin I be chassin this paper hard status |
Its in my nature still copin kids never potin licks wit no fakies |