Erick Sermon
4 Seasons
[Intro: Redman]
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[?]
Brick City, yo
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[Verse 1: Redman]
Yo, yo Funk Doc straight lunatic since young
I ate paint chips the rare moon
That pair mics, my maintenance
I battle you and then me and Meth exchange shifts
For money, to your house arrest anklet
I take it all, if not, here's a thousand
Bricks, be shooting fair ones with bail bonds men
I'm constant, on that paper chase
Blow zip codes from bricks to 8-1-8
Doc serve til you lickin' the plate
Battle royal, in the ring smoking like Doc out of oil
Fire thrown to the roof of you apartment
Hit 95 then I hide with the Waltons
Down South, the forty-four feela
I'm a Dolo n***a, you a Polo n***a
I'm an Uptown shopper, you a Soho n***a
Westside highway running, homo n***a

[Verse 2: LL Cool J & Method Man, both]
I'm the sultan of the ghetto
The homicidal aficionado
I empty n***as out like Cristal bottles (Uh)
When I battle, I'm breakin' Bentleys down to gravel
I got the heat right here, we ain't got to travel
I'm bigger than producers (Uh), I figured out you losers
I know my longevity confuse ya
Big paper games, come on run into these flames
Recognize the power of the royal King James
Phantom Menace, that's why n***as make faces like they drinkin' Guinness (Uh)
When they realize I'm not finished
I been paid, been platinum, been spittin' (Uh)
Been eatin', been ballin' and you know I'm shittin'
Platinum links, chinky-eyed blonde haired honeys sippin' rainbow colored drinks
Black thugs in white minks, ready to jack the brink
Bend your little wifey over (Yea), help her stretch out (Yea) the cakes
That's why ya'll n***as freeze when I step up in the buildin'
The Godfather's here giving blessings to his children (Uh)
Carats shine, the world all mine
Can't believe these cats is poppin' shit about papers in they rhymes
Or bodies they collect, black Gotti shottie, techs
Them gangsta visions'll have you ass up in an ambulance
Cats ain't live, look up in my eyes, we could do this one more time, I'll let you decide
The Alize swigger (Uh), I clock twelve figgas (Uh)
Think Giuliani's rough I got some real shit for n***as
Never been defeated, n***as retreated
Made the choice to be seated 'till my mission's completed
Get loose, get loose, Method Man get loose
What the world gon' do when my dogs get loose?
(Blaze one) Blaze one (Blaze one) Blaze One
Blaze, blaze, blaze one
[Verse 3: Method Man & Ja Rule]
Now, four corners, four seasons (Uh)
Four MC's with four reasons to bring this game to it's knees
And while you down there, suck my dick
My whole motto is fuck it, hit the smoke shop and blow my budget (Yeah)
MC's abusing my bitch, using my shit
I'm hangin' off the roof with one hand, losin' my grip
Now y'all don't wanna see me do that, now do you?
Go straight cuckoo and terrorize rap, do you?
I do my best work stressed out and under pressure (Yea-yah)
Deep inside the mind's where you'll find my buried treasure
I'm still wild, still Tical, still gritty style, still foul, crimi-niminal, individual
Sing a song of sixpence
Pocket full of chips
Too many rap n***as be on John Gotti dick
Now this is something that we don't rehearse (Yeah)
Put that rap shit (Yeah) second (Yeah), and hip-hop first

[Verse 4: Ja Rule]
Be easy, ain't nann n***a spittin' like me
Nor the murderous motherfuckin' I-N-C (Murda!)
N***as'll pass me, look me in the face, ask me
"Are y'all really holdin' weight or did somebody gas me?"
Ja the myth
Reggie hand me the fifth let me explain to little man maybe give him a lift, son you ridin' with (Gang-stas)
Amongst a whole lotta other shit, Murder Inc. is the clique, n***as can't deal with, try it (Play-ers)
You gon' get yours to the heart
Lesson in life by the fofo, n***as want (Yeah), more than a little bit
Hot shit, LL and Red, Ja Rule with Hot Nix
I'm the bastard that shits on bitches explain this
When they ride dick so well, head game from hell
But I love makin' 'em yell, my name
Rule babyyyyyyy, and ain't shit gon' change, (Uh, uh)