Your native language

عربي

Arabic

عربي

简体中文

Chinese

简体中文

Nederlands

Dutch

Nederlands

Français

French

Français

Deutsch

German

Deutsch

Italiano

Italian

Italiano

日本語

Japanese

日本語

한국인

Korean

한국인

Polski

Polish

Polski

Português

Portuguese

Português

Română

Romanian

Română

Русский

Russian

Русский

Español

Spanish

Español

Türk

Turkish

Türk

Українська

Ukrainian

Українська
User Avatar

Sound


Interface


Difficulty level


Accent



interface language

en

Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
Cookie policy   |   Support   |   FAQ
1
register / login
Lyrkit

donate

5$

Lyrkit

donate

10$

Lyrkit

donate

20$

Lyrkit

And/Or support me in social. networks:


Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
Joell Ortiz

4,3,2,1

 

4,3,2,1

(album: Covers The Classics - 2009)


[Joell Ortiz:]
On a scale of one, two, three, four, five, six, seven
Eight, nine, ten, motherfucker I'm in eleven
I served twelve twelves amongst thirteen buildings
But fourteen grams, oh man I made a killing
On the fifteenth the welfare check dropped
So it popped like the sixteens sitting in my Glock
Seventeen years old with the coliseum fronts
In the back way with like eighteen blunts
It was nineteen, I forgot the year but it was on
Cause dimes went out of style and the twenties came along
Twenty-one dollar E&Js with my crew
Cracks in my ass and the grands are twenty-two
Twenty-three on my jersey, Nikes on my feet
On the twenty-fourth bus tryna write to a beat
Locked the game like twenty-five to life at twenty-six
Twenty-seven gave you +The Brick+, at twenty-eight I give you this nigga

Simple mathematics y'all

done

Did you add all the unfamiliar words from this song?