Da Circle - 4 Profits (feat. Ill Bill & Math Hoffa) | Текст песни

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• Da Circle
• 4 Profits (feat. Ill Bill & Math Hoffa)

[Verse 1]

Starting out I was a young whippersnapper
Popping tags early as a lee patch snatcher
Elite backpacker, perceived that stature
Beast in all beats, make my receipts stack up
Decimal tacker, decked a few slackers
My dough showing low, whoever owe getting slapped up
Don’t mix the facts up, Da Circle rip the tracks up
Independent hustle motherfucker state tax cuts
I’m a rap nut, sick like a trap smut
Want my pockets knotty like dreads when they nap up
Brooklyn’s backup, ? the top actor
Real niggas take your territory, rip your map up
A 90s nigga, pussy boy I ain’t getting jacked up
I’m a shark, you got balls get racked up
Steal a scene with GT in a wack dub
? on the set, all these fake niggas wack

[Verse 2]

I’ve been in this game for years, it made me the cult leader
There’s rules to this shit, I wrote encyclopedias, did seminars
Drop jewels on brains that were locked in a cage
Public Enemy meets the Prophets of Rage
From a project lobby to a Rock The Bell stage
From a nonsense hobby to writing rhymes and getting paid
Reputation’s the cornerstone of respect
So I stay murderous when recordable to cassette
And I remain the same way to this very day
While many others have come and gone on their merry way
Fuck creating my own lane, I created several lanes
My own highway and do it my way
And fuck following trends, my motto is when
Everybody slide right I’mma slide to the left
And do my own thing, Uncle Howie making dollars
And I own all my masters, no one’s raping ours

[Chorus]

4 profits, for the paper
Yeah we underground moving major
Mix your grind with your hustle
Come up with a brustle
I got enough muscle to make your money double
Push it to the limit, get it how you live it
Collect your digits, let em stack then you flip it
And being broke is a condition you ain’t trying to live in
Till my casket drops getting gwap’s the mission

[Verse 3]

I’m trying to make a dollar out of fifteen cents
So I grab my Blackberry, begin to invent
Rhymes that reflect the struggle
Respect the hustle, nouns and verbs connect the bubble
Keep a smut broad like an ATM card
No wife and swiping, transaction ?
One in a million, you treat her like a queen when my phone bill is due
Rape that bitch hard when her money get right
We can reconcile honey when your money get right
Gigolo yes indeed, go ahead and judge
I don’t give a fuck, not for free
Chubby chaser’s top choice, the golden voice
Betty Crocker, she give me cake, I keep her box moist
My dick got a tax ID
Your boy ? a four profit LLC

[Verse 4]

You’re talking about money, we can get it dog
I hit you with a package you can get it all
Take a minute, give a call, no skipping off
It’ll cross in the front like a center guard
I ain’t with it dog, I’ll knock your fitted off
Put a show on, I’m the horror flick to spin it off
How you been a boss? All your niggas soft
When a real niggas caught cases, you ain’t get em off?
I’m overkill, show the steel
Cause after 12 BT niggas know the deal
Brooklyn brawler like Mike, bitches know the drill
I get head but no Hollyfield
Shout to Snoop man the homie trill
I’m the one that crept up and got Bodie killed
On my grind, think these battles is my only meal?
I’m over mixtapes till I hit 40 mill

[Chorus]

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