J Dilla
4 Horsemen (192 N’ It)
[Intro: Phife Dawg]
Lo, Bay, Snag, and Phife
This is how we hold it down every night
Ayo it's Lo, Bay, Snag, and Phife
Money in our pocket and our chicks is right
Ayo it's Lo, Bay, Snag, and Phife
This is how we hold it down every night
Ayo it's Lo, Bay, Snag, and Phife
Ayo, money in our pocket and our chicks is right

[Verse 1: Big Lo]
There's a lot of n***as out there that spit that shit
And there's a lot of motherfuckers that just talk shit
But a n***a like me, I got hundred percent G
To get a homeless n***a come and cop a tape off me
I do my thing with the flows, do my thing with the hoes
And my n***a Bay Lloyd keep a fresh pair of both
When it's time to rock raps you better be on your toes
It's Big Lo, I come through with the murderous rhymes
Man, Mike got shit but he ain't fuckin' with mine
Chick be like, yo who the fuck left the pussy open?
Feelin' fucked up in his skins while he strokin'
Mad cause a n***a like me left it open
I'm the cat on the low in the hood, who be creepin'
Catch me with a hot black chick or a 'Rican
If shorty blow the spot, fuck it we just won't be speakin'
But trust me she'll be back by the motherfuckin' weekend
'Cause I stays on my toes when it comes to the freakin'
I kick the hot shit that keep my whole team eatin'
[Verse 2: Bay-LLoyd]
When it comes to rap, I got a arm like a quarterback
The n***a to but your daughter on the track, and sell her body
Not stressed for paper, there's more to rap
It's the fans, they like to see me pop bottles at every party
Got our band's website, for fiends to order crack
I'm the man of my hood, I thought I told you that, don't be nervous
You're worthless, BE ALL YOU CAN BE!
Y'all n***as better off joinin' the service
Don't hustle y'all baby (mama), why don't you sell garbage
Twelve-twelve fifty eighths, hear me take off like Curtis
Mayfield, and reach a n***a, stay still
Y'all n***as, don't you know can't fuck around with Bay's skills
Come in heavy like Durangos with thick soles
I'd rather hair stores sell weave to Kim Coles

[Chorus]
This here hold it down for Lynden, Bully like what!
Runnin' through life and not givin' a fuck
Gotta get your paper, never mind these sluts
They ain't goin' nowhere we can always get butt
This here hold it down for Lynden, Bully like what!
Runnin' through life and not givin' a fuck
Gotta get your paper, never mind these sluts
They ain't goin' nowhere we can always get butt
[Verse 3: Snag]
Hit the record button Snag's about to floss logic, tape deck
I spit more classics then n***as been raised by poppin' acid
Now peep my tactics, flat on they back, without a mattress
When I go birdy, Snag in the Gucci casket
I brought platinum back, but it's only on the plastic
It's the fourth quarter, peep the Snag as he stretches
Y'all n***as claim you playas but you warmin' up the benches
I back-crack bitches on mats, whip out extensions
Hit the box on your backboard, piss on your track boy
Hijack a car for the landin' and then kill you
Shea Stadium, on the roof of the Paladium
And get head, 'til I bob through, this chick is premium
If any gun's pulled Snag'll be the one aimin' 'em
Lettin' off like a menace, all at your fuckin' tree
And leavin' you careless, Snag said it it's time to end it

[Verse 4: Phife Dawg]
Last but not least it's Mutt Ranks
Nice with the mic and you can take that to the bank
Knockin' all you maggots out the park like the Yanks
First n***a on stage, that's my word he's gettin' shanked
No longer Phife Dawg, see them bloody days are done with
Mutty Ranks now! Time that I get on some dumb shit
It's great goin' solo that's my motherfuckin' word!
You know my style Bay, gotta put myself first
Anybody poppin' shit then they get what they deserve
With chicks I get more action than a motherfuckin' verb
Come one, come all and you all will get served
Cats is hard-headed when the fuck will they learn
Too many fraud rappers, I don't know what them a deal with (Jamaican accent)
For those that's hard of hearin', G I'ma make you feel it
Fuck your pot smokin' and your sips of Hennessy
The pussy that you get, what the fuck that mean to me?
Handcuff these clowns and the rhymes they be sayin'
One smack to the mouth and they know you ain't playin'
When I'm on the mic, son there won't be no delayin'
Them n***as frontin' hard be the same n***as prayin'
Knawmsayin'?
[Chorus]
This here hold it down for Lynden, Bully like what!
Runnin' through life and not givin' a fuck
Gotta get your paper, never mind these sluts
They ain't goin' nowhere we can always get butt
This here hold it down for Lynden, Bully like what!
Runnin' through life and not givin' a fuck
Gotta get your paper, never mind these sluts
They ain't goin' nowhere we can always get butt