4, 3, 2, 1

Album

Phenomenon

Label

Def Jam Recordings

Genre

Hip hop

Media Type

CD

Duration

4:10

Composer(s)

King Ad-Rock/MCA/R. Noble/Rick Rubin/Erick Sermon/E. Simons/James Todd Smith/Clifford Smith/G. Williams

Entered Chart

Dec 27, 1997

Peak Date

Dec 27, 1997

Released

December 9, 1997

Recorded

1997

Catalog #

568321

"4, 3, 2, 1" is a song by Queens rapper LL Cool J featuring Method Man, Redman, Canibus and DMX from LL Cool J's seventh album Phenomenon as the second single. It was released on December 9, 1997, for Def Jam Recordings and was produced by Erick Sermon. The single featured an extended version not featured on the album featuring an additional verse from Southern hip hop rapper Master P. Both the original song (without Canibus) and the extended cut (with Canibus and Master P) had accompanying music videos (directed by Diane Martel). The song peaked at number 75 on the Billboard Hot 100, number 10 on the Hot Rap Singles and number 24 Hot R&B/Hip-Hop Songs

[LL Cool J (Redman):]
Ay carumba
(I'm gonna Bankhead bounce)
No doubt
(Watch your mouth)

(Ayo, one, two, three, four, five, six, seven)
(Blaze the hot) trizack that sound like Heaven
Seven, six, five, four to three, two, one
Mo'mon, Meth-Tical, come and get some

[Method Man:]
Playing my position, hot Nick, son
This one, for all the sick ones, infliction
Poisonous darts sickenin', best believe
Finger itchin' with two broke legs, now I'm trippin'
On MC's cliche, shot that ricochets
Start trouble, bust bubbles, hip to wicked ways
Gotta love me, G-O-D, no one above me
Look good but fuck ugly
Tap your jaw from my Punch Buggy sonning you
Got you shittin' in your last Huggie, running who?
Fuckin' punk, get a speed bump coming through
A single shot make yo' meat lump, respect Wu

[Redman (Method Man):]
Yo, ayo, I put it on a nigga, shitted on a nigga
Turn a Christian to a certified sinner
The bomb I release, time pent up (Explode)
When you got sent up I was hitting your ex ho
Shit, I kept low, petro' your metro
Politic, keep the chickenheads gobblin'
Shit I'm driving in come with fog halogen
Terrorize your city from the spliff committee
Kick ass 'til both Timberlands turn shitty
Gritty, smack the driver's head in the gypsy
When I approach, rappers be taking notes
I drop like I shoulda invented the raincoat
Absolute, I love to burn to the roots
I keep cummin' 'til your pour sperm from your boots
Vigilante hardcore to the penis
Tell you, "Fuck you", my attitude is anaemic

[Canibus:]
I'm the illest nigga alive, watch me prove it
I snatch your crown with ya head still attached to it
Canibus is the type who'll fight for mics
Beating niggas to death and beating dead niggas to life
When you look at me long enough, I'll start to read your thoughts
If the signal was strong enough, and then I'll call your bluff
Like, "Yo, how many rhymes you got?"
I could go on for more Millenniums than Mazda's got on the car lot
And there's nowhere to run to, when I confront ya
Nigga, I call your bluff like it had a phone number
Who wanna see Canibus get wild?
Who wanna act fly and get shot down with a surface-to-air missile?
I take 'em on in all shapes, sizes and forms and spit on
Anybody who ain't close enough to shit on
Zero to sixty? I'm already doin' a hundred when I'm blunted
And I give it to any nigga that want it

[DMX:]
Stay out the dark, 'cause if I catch you when the sun is down
Run it clown, come up off that, or I'm gon' gun it down
Run it now, however it's gon' go, it's gon' be that
See that, that shit'll finish you, dog, believe that
Where we at? Do you value your life as much as your possessions?
Don't be a stupid nigga, learn a lesson
I'm gon' get you either way, and it's better to live
Let me get what's between your sock 'cause it's better to give
Than receive, believe what I say when I tell you
Don't make me put you somewhere where nobody'll smell you
And when the lights is out, they don't come back on
This ain't a flick, you ain't gon' come back on, you ain't that strong
You knew it was wrong, but you asked for it, baby
You's a big nigga, ski mask for it, baby
So I can hit you up on Front Street, you think I'm sweet
Want heat, one deep, leave him behind, front seat

[Redman (Method Man):]
Ayo, one, (two), three, (four), five, (six), seven
Blaze the hot trizack, (shine like Heaven)
(Seven), six, (five), four, (three), two, (one)
Come on, Mr. Smith, come get some (Some, some, some)

[LL Cool J:]
When young sons fantasize of borrowing flows
Tell little shorty with the big mouth the bank is closed (Ha, word up)
The symbol on my arm is off limits to challengers
You hold the rusty swords, I swing the Excalibur
How dare you step up in my dimension (Uh-huh)
Your little ass should be somewhere crying on detention
Watch your mouth, better yet, hold your tongue (Uh)
I'ma do this shit for free this time, this one's for fun
Blow you to pieces, leave you covered in feces
With one thesis (LL Cool J is hard)
Every little boy wanna pick up the mic
And try to run with the big boys and live up to the real hype
But that's like picking up a ball, playing with Mike (Uh-huh)
Swingin' at Ken Griffey or challenging Roy to a fight (Uh)
Snapping, you amateur MCs
Don't you know I'm like the Dream Team touring overseas?
For rappers in my circle, I'm a deadly disease
Ringmaster, bringing a tiger cub to his knees (Uh)
In the history of rap, they've never seen such prominence
Your naive confidence gets crushed by my dominance (Word up)
Now let's get back to this mic on my arm
If it ever left my side, it'd transform into a time bomb
You don't wanna borrow that, you wanna idolize
And you don't wanna make me mad, nigga, you wanna socialize
And I'm daring every MC in the game
To play yourself out position, and mention my name (LL)
I make a rhyme for every syllable in your name
Go platinum for every time your grimy ass was on the train
Watch your mouth, don't ever step out of line
LL Cool J, nigga, greatest of all time