Lyrics:
oooooooh!
But matter fact, got more chesse than nacho
Not from rap, when I used to fuck wit Pancho
I'm in the class, all by myself
Now you haters wanna
My Pappy said "Son you're goin' to drive me to drinkin'
if you don't stop drivin' the Hot Rod Lincoln"
Have you heard the story of the hot rod race
unshaven messy scrubs
Rippin' 40-bottles like the fuckin' Pepsi clubs
Down a fifth, crack open a six
I'm on my seventh 8-ball, now I gotta take a piss
me one more
Beer five and I'm comin' alive
Beer six, man that went down quick
Seven, eight, nine, I'm feelin' fine
And by number ten life's good
Woke up one morning out some bomb ass cot
My dick kinda limp so I cruise around the block
Call my cousin Snoop as I swoop in the Coupe
Stop by my
chasin' me and my eight friends for Final Destination
Ooh, shoulda knew that we gon' bring that funk to you
(Yeah, yeah, yo E-Dub, this is hot nigga)
Gilla
Woke up one morning out some bomb ass cot
My dick kinda limp so I cruise around the block
Call my cousin Snoop as I swoop in the Coupe
Stop by my
towards them crawl,
social retardation larvey plugged into the wall,
the little short circuit with the still born vibe,
till the villagers circled
Three of my main dudes four door Gran Coupe
Five bottles in each six models at least
Never sevens and eights
Just nines and dime pieces
You know me, I’m
He said I got
Twenty eight days
Twelve Seconds
Six hours
Forty two minutes
Till the world ends
But I couldn't do it with my best friend
So Be brave
bury me under
Big pipes soundin like thunder
Skated by the skin of my teeth, I had to put a man in his place last week
Now why you want to come at me?
soundin' like thunder
Skated by the skin of my teeth
I had to put a man in his place last week
Now why you wanna come at me?
I'm the wrong nigga
Day
Ten, let the countdown begin
Nine, I was born in the mind
Eight, take the head of a snake
Seven, behold Armageddon
Six, ain't no love for
back, lay back, treat this eight six cut like a Maybac
Hey, show these suckas that after 50 million sold
Daddy fat sacs is still where the hood at, hood
I know better, hot rod vixen
I’ll probably call ya’ back
Copyright
2000 by Tony D. Anderson / Six Foot And Sea Level Records
key
Throwback 6 Oz ADI
Mii not get it
Prolly not
Back to butterflies
Whooo, gettin’ hot
I ain’t talkin’ zips in a key
But the key to da heart not
the block hot, shit got super hot, ayy
Give me my respect, give me my respect
I just took it left like I'm ambidex'
Bitch, I move through London with
One, two, three
He plays so sexy to me
Three, four, five, six
Kit's got some brand new licks
Six, seven, eight
Down by the snake at the lake
And put six through your hats, a seven 3/8's (come on)
Irv you ain't Suge Knight, you shook night
I put my knife in ya wind pipe and breeze
Put a clique house on major
Me and Hot Boy that's major
Iphone 5 that's a pager
Wanna get in touch you gotta page me
Iphone 6 upgraded
that's a hot take
Tre maybe could be next that's what I'll say
Cloud nine writing rhymes that's to me a good day
Six three with my ego maybe six eight
I
(Great John on the beat by the way)
Look
Got one life to live and I give mine to the set nigga
Catch him, four five six, better play your role
& Adam Deitch
Written by: Bobby Ray Sparks II
(BOBBY SPARKS MUSIC, BMI)
MIXED BY: Nic Hard at Atlantic Sound Studios: NYC
CHIEF ENGINEER: Rod Steger
I went down to the Poly
On a hot October evening
To join in with an open stage
Organised by friends
And friends of friends
We'd made
The young
.jpg/300px-Hot_Hot_Heat_(1659559709).jpg "Hot Hot Heat")
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