Lyrics:
Ghetto summer jam's got the streets blocked off
Plots to knock me off get stopped short
Armed with my thoughts, move the world with an unknown force
your expired by the shots
Hot wired by the watts, exterminate ya, terminate ya
War displayed by the real niggaz
[Raekwon]
On his wrist saw
man, you're in a gangsta scene
With a villain doin damage on a 24 track
With no confusion to finish my conclusion
Rythymatic rhymes from a radio cat
licken
Then we top it off with that gumbo
Jam out to the sun rose
Country life like corn rows
Ain't no other place that I'd rather be
With my sweet thang
My pappy said, son, you're gonna drive me to drinkin'
If you don't stop drivin' that hot rod Lincoln
Now you've heard the story of the hot-rod
Yeah, Erick Sermon, EPMD, check it
Redman, method man, lady luck, def jam
Erick and Parrish millennium ducats
Hold me down, hold me down
Yo!
to
Jam, jam, here comes the man, hot damn
The big boy stands, movin' up a hand
Makin' funky tracks with my man Michael Jackson
Smooth criminal, that's
to
Jam, jam, here comes the man, hot damn,
The big boy stands, movin' up a hand.
Makin' funky tracks with my man Michael Jackson,
Smooth criminal, that's
Relax
By Ashley DuBose feat. BdotCroc
Verse 1
This whole week has been so crazy
So much stuff been going on
Wish that I could turn it off
Close my
Well, you heard the story of the hot rod race, that fatal day
When the Ford and the Mercury went out to play
Well, this is the inside story,
Well, you heard the story of the hot rod race, that fatal day
When the Ford and the Mercury went out to play
Well, this is the inside story,
Hey, don't trip
Hey, don't quit
Hey, don't slip
Hey, yah trick
I'm sick of just getting by
I'm sick of playing the bad guy
I'm sick of just getting
get to your work
I got hot in that pussy and took off my shirt
We ain't gon' be official, I know you a flirt
I ain't takin' you serious, you listen
T Braxton heat, track I burn
While you go left, I make a right turn
(I'm Hot) Def Squad no one does it better
If it gets hot take off the hot sweater
three months
I fight with my Father, the battle begun
I spit out these verses, my Bible my gun
I'm so hot on this track cause I follow the Son
I take in
bigger than fat
We on track man
Yeah bring in ya nan
It goes bam, bam, bam
Now she Peter Pan
It goes fast rap
Never Slickety slack
We gon' pack jams
Yeah
scramble it
I spit off the tip top and flip flop and sandal it
Clearly gripping the mic and nuances of how to handle it
They tryna get on by telling badder
I like to get right down...
Do you like to get right down too?"
Well, what did you have in mind?
"Well, I get off being spoo-ed upon
By
But it’s on and on with the programme
Got turned on by a slow jam
Thinking we’re Don Juan, oh damn
But it’s on and on with the programme
Got turned
Claim to be some killers when we know that yall some bums
Niggas gain clout off of lies
I just get booed for the truth
Niggas spitting trash on the track
a beat by Pharris at them country club parties
We'd be hot as hell and House studs would yell "Aight, now money!"
Sauers I would go there, hip-hop clubs
Shorty got potential I could be her sponsor
Met her back stage at a summer jam concert
Hair like Rihanna shoe game was awesome
Could tell by her
Brace your ear drums
Here comes
Your new summertime anthem
Turn the speakers up
Roll your windows down
Pop the top off a Twisted, let's get buzzed
the whole club go back, eh
Bend the knees, jig 'em bring this one back back, eh
Like a swagger mom, bring on this track, eh
Massive attack, mm massive
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