Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song 4 Thoze of U, artist - Twiztid. Album song Mirror Mirror, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хопDate of issue: 31.03.2015
Record label: Psychopathic
Song language: English
4 Thoze of U |
| You hear that? |
| What? |
| What? |
| Woah! |
| We off the train tracks homeboy |
| Outta control |
| Me and Madrox, rocking bitches, slapping the world |
| I say some shit to make your toes curl quick, little bitch |
| Paint a picture like Picasso, from your blood when it drips |
| Take a sip, it makes me stronger than the stongest man |
| And my mind takes a journey to the farthest land |
| I’m the whole world’s kryptonite |
| I got these bitches on they knees, kissing hands, crying begging for they life |
| I’m a put your knife to the neck (slice) |
| Gotta go, run you just a hoe, true you ain’t a juggalo |
| (believe dat) |
| You get your head split, quick, some shit they can’t stitch |
| I’m a scrub for life, don’t let the hair style (?) |
| With a bag of weed looking to blow it |
| Those who don’t know it, I’m Monoxide, blaze up a smoke |
| And pass that shit to your boy, and give his bitch a choke |
| 4 thoze of u that don’t know |
| Never blow hydro |
| Are you afraid to go where I go? |
| Even though, call yourself a juggalo |
| Telling everybody that you dowwwwn |
| For thoze of u that don’t know (hmm?), |
| It’s Mr. Madrox (fuck yeah!) |
| First name, Jamie, can’t nobody see me |
| And my brother M-O-N-O one the m-i-c |
| And basically my little brother Blaze, put it down |
| With thug mentality (that's right) |
| We represent the vicinity of the East (eastside!) |
| But there’ll be no love for hoes or the police (all you thugs put yo shit on! |
| , biyatch!) |
| What you thought it was? |
| Bumping weak shit |
| Need to get some hatchet in your life (Yay! Yay!) |
| Cause you perpetrating, like we don’t know |
| Yesterday you was a hater, but today you’s a juggalo (biyatch!) |
| You just a false wearing sheep nanny ghost |
| Trying to fall up in the flock, with that same mopey dope (mopey dope) |
| Trying to turn you in the shot (Believe it is!) |
| Second hand south scanned underground |
| And plus a hundred grand |
| So fuck a fan base, show me family faces |
| No matter they size, shape, or races |
| First off! |
| (Here we go!) |
| Who better trip and get the sawed off |
| Pointed to the back of your head, acting like the dead |
| Don’t play, 12 shells a day |
| Still put it down for my G’s around the way (Hey! Hey!) |
| Hey, ain’t nobody try to step to |
| Better watch your mouth homeboy, I’ll powerplex you |
| (Ow!) Into the mat, now picture that |
| Your styles so skinny your noise is… (Hella, Hella! Phat, Phat!) |
| Phat enough to kick it with a gang of hoodrats |
| In the back of a chicken shack (Clucking) |
| Move it back to your jaw like a side effect (and fuck you hoodrat hoes in the |
| projects) |
| Got a 12 gauge, and I’m holding it down |
| Who wanna ride wit me, cause I’m headed eastward bound |
| Call the T-W-I-Z-T-I-D-B-L-A-Z-E |
| And we ride till infinity |
| I hate everyone, I hate everyone, I hate everyone, I hate everyone |