T4 or T-4 may refer to:
Fax (short for facsimile), sometimes called telecopying or telefax, is the telephonic transmission of scanned printed material (both text and images), normally to a telephone number connected to a printer or other output device. The original document is scanned with a fax machine (or a telecopier), which processes the contents (text or images) as a single fixed graphic image, converting it into a bitmap, and then transmitting it through the telephone system in the form of audio-frequency tones. The receiving fax machine interprets the tones and reconstructs the image, printing a paper copy. Early systems used direct conversions of image darkness to audio tone in a continuous or analog manner. Since the 1980s, most machines modulate the transmitted audio frequencies using a digital representation of the page which is compressed to quickly transmit areas which are all-white or all-black.
Scottish inventor Alexander Bain worked on chemical mechanical fax type devices and in 1846 was able to reproduce graphic signs in laboratory experiments. He received patent 9745 on May 27, 1843 for his "Electric Printing Telegraph."Frederick Bakewell made several improvements on Bain's design and demonstrated a telefax machine. The Pantelegraph was invented by the Italian physicist Giovanni Caselli. He introduced the first commercial telefax service between Paris and Lyon in 1865, some 11 years before the invention of the telephone.
Technician Fourth Grade (abbreviated as T/4 or TEC4) was one of three United States Army technician ranks established on January 8, 1942 during World War II. Those who held this rank were often addressed as Sergeant. Technicians possessed specialized skills that were rewarded with a higher pay grade. These skills could be directly related to combat, such as those skills possessed by a tank driver or combat engineer, or skills possessed by those in support functions such as a cooks or mechanics. Depending on his or her function, he or she might be called upon by an officer to command a group of men for a specific task. They were non-commissioned officers, as were sergeants. Initially, they shared the same insignia but on September 4, 1942, the three technician ranks were distinguished by a block "T" imprinted below the standard chevrons. Unofficial insignia using a technical specialty symbol instead of the T were used in some units.
Check it out
This is my shit fo real
Its gunna be off tha hook
Peep this out
The Kon Artist nigga
The Kon Artist born liar
Lie to your pops and moms
Tell em Im a good kid
Catholic raised
Knowin i went to public school
And sweared and got blazed
Even weed when i got a whole two
And that bitch I did do it
Steal cars Ive been through it
Done that
Played buddy buddy and rob ya like nigga run that
Bum cat, and bone hood rats till they bleed on my floor mat
Nasty nigga, make ya beleive that im a classy nigga
But im far from that average joe that you know
Use people for sheilds at shoot outs
That i started, cold hearted
Runnin reckless peep out your shorty till my neck twistin
Infectionist, poisonus bug we all ruff
Showed your daddy love or slugs
Could have tortured him, told me that he didnt wanna die
We still forced him
Fuckin peeps has his bat, when we brawled they fled
Now we layin dead with his chicked head like Dirty Fihed
Come battle us with your heat and stabbed, nabbed and gagged
Jabbed and dragged and thrown inside of a bag
Your fans been had, bamboozle, run em up
But you loosing credibility the miniute _ and up
So fuck that stank bitch with the saggy ass titties
Fuck all the niggas that dont represent our city
Fuck JLB they dont play none of my shit
Fuck all them niggas that be suckin our dicks
Sicker the tuburculosis
Pack a cannon with a focus
Thats killin all the players and the coaches
Embarrass you in front of company like dirty roaches
Approach this and get served the situation, hopeless
Wrote this, jot it down cuz Kuniva wrote this
The wild animal rhyme colprut
Ferocious, closest
Nigga walkin behind you with a dosage
Of teffifyin tales that be stompin small soldiers
The grim reaper dipped in all black like folgers
Packing four heaters and carrying five holsters
Suppose if i was to let you put up all your posters
Let everybody think you was the dopest
I'd rather strike you quicker then the cobra
Box you up and sold ya
Take you underwater and hold you until its over
I told you once you dumb _ with a blunt
That be pullin off the dope fiends selllin tha _
Get your ass kicked quicker then punts
Im sick of you punks
Cock it back now Im upset
Yo' niggas next
Im blowing smoke outta ya chest when it connect
Creepin like insects and ridin with ten techs
Ahh fuck any D.J that dont play Bizarre's shit
Fuck your sister I dont like her she dont suck dick
Fuck that nigga that talk shit to my crew
Fuck all yall niggas who say I dont like you
Im a brand named guy
Who loves to stay high
Got a ten inch dick and the gun the same size
A bitch named bitch
Whos thick with grey eyes
Who loves to suck dick and get hit by eight guys
Its Bugz bitch, you the fuck you thunk it was?
Gettin drunk with drunken thug
Too fucken numb to feel the buzz
Yall niggas know the image
No gimmicks, No timids, no manners, and no limits
This time, bitch, Im goin all out
Whippin the four out
Like get the dough out
Im miss crime, sick individual
Ask my peers in middle school
If you walk my way home gettin robbed is like a ritual
Lyrical giant, tyrant who lies _
Just to get you to do what I want
And bitch you will
Sit you still, tie you up
Begin to ill
And destroy you face, Im with some shit that u can feel
Fuck all yall niggas who say dirty dozen's dead
Fuckin your new wife in your brand new bed
Fuck your chicken head she suck dick anyway
Fuck anybody who say crime dont pay
Heard enough garbage to make a glad bust
Add just my magnum beef I had enuff
Snuff the sweetest mc in this camp tribe rivulry
To be as live as me keep em quiet like a library
My rhymes are virgin tight
And not fuck-with-able
You find the mic suckable
Without chicked pox, untouchable
Peep my _ aint to be tested
Ill test the globe and rip through your domestic
Majestic warrior to rap to win
Knock the _, and slap the chin of the aggresor
Thinkin that they fresher
Wanted conquest holdin down the one sided contest
That explosive rappin nigga
The fans wear a bomb vest
Style be a eliquit
A fellow pimp to mant with clips
Fuck _ kicks and being skinny with zits
Im the shhhhh, _
Like cane in a crack pot
I thinks its best you act right
Ill confirm your death, left the morgue _
D-12 is blowin up like the fourth _
I whisper far well to my granny
Till I push her down the stairwell
And im sendin her care mail
Like get well you old hag
Ill bring the pain like a blow fag
Staplin one his gonads to his sock
Doin jumping jacks
Once we put you down bitch their aint no comin back
Remember that
Its the big guy, quick to get on you
Battle? I'll be glad to shit on you
Come against my crew and see who gets destroyed
Fuck I'll let you bring bats and brawl some of my boyz
Shady ass niggas wether drunk or sober
Bizarre that was demo tape you just recorded over
I dont give a dam bitch Im just to ill
Gimme ten pills y'all run across the Lambo Field
Like bitches _ , _ _, think of the illest line know
And I bet you i already said it
Just forget it, cuz you niggas pathetic
Pop shit, yall niggas go and get it
Beat your ass hang ya with this fuckin mic cord
Fuck the sword, I quote my raps in billboard
Suck my dick while I laugh like its funny
And drive off while she yell
"Where's my money"
Fuck any body who beef with d-12
Fuck all yall momma their pussy's smell
Fuck anybody that wanna bring tha beef
Fuck all yall hoes that say my feet stick
Fuck them niggas that dont give us radio play
Fuck takin a bath i dont wash anyways
Fuck anybody tryin to be on our team
Fuck all yall niggas with them weak ass dream
Fuck all them niggas watchin videos to be rappers that their not cuz they cant rock the fucken spot
Fuck all yall niggas with them dirty ass shoes come in the club like your dope and your singing the blues
Fuck anybody tryin to kiss our ass
Fuck all yall niggas who wont cut my grass
Fuck all them niggas who aint getitn no money
Fuck all yo' hoes who wont let me stick their honey
Fuck all the girls who aint givin up the sex
Fuck all you niggas and im askin whos next
Fuck anybody wanna battle my crew
Fuck, Fuck you, Fuck, Fuck, Fuck you
Fuck anybody wanna get down with _
Fuck all yall niggas sayin you cant feel my mommy
Fuck you mommy
Fuck your daddy
Fuck your gramma
Fuck his caddy
Fuck your people
Fuck everybody
Fuck his girlfriend
Fuck John Gotti
Fuck the Mafia
Fuck _
Fuck New York
Fuck Detriot
Fuck New Jersy