Lyrics:
wit my granny give me One mo chance
No dis ain't no candy I been poppin xans
I remember 6th grade rocking all red vans
Take me be back to when I was
Bird came on parade,
And chided the lads for mooning,
'E talked in a voice like a pound o' plums,
'Is tonsils needed pruning.
""Move to the right by
Eight years old, couple cane poles sittin' down by the creek
Lines in the water watchin' those bobbers, seein' that red sun sink
Mama's
Draggin' main till the break of dawn
Draggin' mainstreet all night long
(Everybody now let's go cats! All night long!)
I got a hot rod Ford and a new
the seller of lightning rods, foretells the coming storm
The light's on in the library, beneath the black'ning sky
Charles Halloway sits deep inside,
circuit, long range, mag to interpret
We straight murk it, worldwide, we K lurch it
Whatever urges, for this paper, feel it's worth it
A hundred percent,
here
Yo, it's six million ways to die from the seven deadly thrills
Eight-year olds getting found with 9 mill's
It's ten P.M., where your seeds at?
a snowball fight
This winter day in the morning
I saw eight penguins marching by
Waddling, they were waddling
I saw eight penguins marching by
This winter
Six times out ten all them niggas be snitching
Seven times out of ten niggas always pretending
Eight times out of ten you just can't fuck with niggas
everyday
Like sneakin' gats up in grade eight
Six Flags catch me gettin' on the popular rides
If a nigga violate, he gettin' popped in the line
Small
One, two, tree, four, five, six, seven, eight
Look at all that hate I generate
I don't feel apart from featherweights
Maybe try when you interrogate
smoking chronic
Tryna skydive
Nigga hype down, you could die now
If you hit the four pound with
The extendo that’s a five pound
8 pounds and 6 pounds,
degrees, it's hot as hell like my main squeeze
Ride or die, passenger side, burning trees
Now that's a forest fire inspired by the summer breeze
Filthy
we scored more, than ever before
Copped the two door, six-double-oh off a raw
Show no love for loss since big eight be that lucky
Number, we slammed
laughed at me now I got some hope
Three man but it's one girl, on that hoe
In that hot rod buffs on pulling all the hoes
Three five to head I got some wings
pack ya shells and begin tucking ya tech
Bitch
I'm pissed off and angry
Red hot, and smug
I drink vodka daily
Just fought for blood
My trick got lil
didn't only hope
You ever did flourish
As if I didn't always know
To show up give you more this
Hot tracks
You couldn't melt the handprints
I've got
shit on my own
Picture me fake, picture me snake
Picture me smoking a wood by the lake
Picture me not being one of the greats
Picture me not saying fuck
motion only the strong survive
But on the 6 or the 5
Live is how the sets used to be, at the Racquet
Ball Club with music by, Andre Hatchett
Or either
back, family dressed in black
Plus it's hot now, the cops outside, it's hard to flip a pack
And my daughter gotta eat
Her mama be stressing me like I
Or you'll have to pick it up by 11
Wait a minute I got a meeting at 6
I can't pick it up by 7-ish
Therefore I must pick wait until tomorrow
Go to my man
inside our dna
And no abomination inside our dna
Count it
One two three four five six seven eight
We can count our blessings all the way up to heavens
bitter people talking
Acting like they made niggas
Laying up with Cee off Jasper by Jade nigga
Thinking of a way to be a legend and paid nigga
Brave nigga
the prada.
8.6 hit the boy like Mr miyagi, karate peformed by the choppa.
Chop the boy down and his mama like lumber, we brought the mask out think we won
.jpg/300px-Hot_Hot_Heat_(1659559709).jpg "Hot Hot Heat")
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