4, 3, 2, 1 lyrics

4,3,2,1

[BOOSIE] Verse 1
I got a hustle that's unmatchable
A swag that can't be touched
I got real blood diamonds
Snatch this chain, you gon' get bussed
Every thang I spit be sick
So I dun f*cked tha world up
Got respect across the world
But I don't never get enough
Trigger finger soft as tissue
Boy, lil' boy don't call my bluff
I got b*tches like Delicious
Squirt when they catch a nut
I got Polo on my body
Red bottoms on my feet
I got b*tches in Milwaukee
Detroit, all tha way to Flint
I got kush like Wiz, so you know a n*gga lit
Came out tha pus*y bout my biz so I gotta represent
In tha cage full of rage
And now it's time to vent
They took Lil Bleek away from me
So now it's time to sin huh
[HOOK]
4,3,2,1

Realest n*gga at this sh*t

[VERSE 2]
I got deals on tha table
And they talkin big ol' money
Time to do some big ol' stuntin'
Hit tha ground, and keep runnin'
Real sh*t back so won't you hear it now
Got all my real n*ggas in heaven
Smilin', lookin' down
This for my n*ggas in tha kitchen mane
Who cookin' now
n*gga got that charge
Who sittin' in central booking now
Mane they say Tupac back
I'm tha closet, hands down
But I don't rap beef
Say sumin' bout me
You gon' get laid down
I never switch
I took my lick and I laid down
So many sh*tted on ya boy
But they gon' pay now
And I'm tha man from East Oakland to Chi-town
Nothing but Boosie when they ride
When they ride 'round
That crack music n*gga
I go hard n*gga

It's so addictive, explicit
Contagious
Talk about lickin', killin in these streets
I'm so outrageous
I'm a army by myself
I put labels on my back
I put candy on my whip
And I put paper on a rat
Got a gift to touch some hearts
And Im gon' thank tha man for that
These couple years been hard
But b*tch I'm almost back
I like 'em thick
I like 'em slim
I like 'em just right fine
I like my head slow motion
And look in my eyes
Minor setback for a major comeback
You know I wasn't lying
If I ain't f*ck yo b*tch
You know I wasn't tryin'
My secret weapon Iviona
And she top of tha line
Learned tha business up in prison
Im on top of my grind
My circle small
Cuz half my dawgs fightin' 1st degree murder
Ready to get back to the streets
And light that 1st degree purple
Promised my n*ggas in the pen
I was gon' touch and act a beast
They ain't comin' like I'm comin'
Now tha game belong to me
Don't want Bobby by tha pound
I don't want Whitney by tha key
I just want my 7 kids who mean tha world to me
Yo girl a freak
She ate my meat, and ya'll married
Ratchet
No more walkin' round wit 50 g's
Plastic
Got a BB shirt on wit' her hair down
Jazzy
A hundred grand a night
f*ckin' right
I'm still happy 2x
Tote a pack