Lyrics:
and it would stunt your growth
I used to chip in with the other young folks
Back when it came in little brown envelopes
Remember the day my moms found
damn work
The flame so hot it burns
I'm looking at your eyes as you stare at me
I'll sit here wasting time for you
By the end of the damn night I hope
from hot, like a cold on a stove
And commence to roll, like a tire
A real rider will ride ya, like a stallion with a chair
Any buster be cherbin',
Fo-sho shots get dropped and popped just like a picklock
With the master key, but the master key be me
I assign chop from hot, like a cold
see bank like Frank White
Your hand clutchin', your chest-plate contemplate
You 'bout to die, nigga wait, keep yo' hands high
Yo yo
I don't brown
see bank like Frank White
Your hand clutchin', your chest-plate contemplate
You 'bout to die, nigga wait, keep yo' hands high
Yo yo
I don't brown
Yeah
Ouh yeah
Aye ehh
Ayeehe
Yeaaah
Yea this some new shit but you know that we're still gone talk bout money (Still gone talk bout money)
And by
be touched
Niggas say I'm too much, I trust it's true
Why lie? See for yourself when I slide through
Drive by, your bitch say don't look, you do
44 beneath my head
Woke up next mornin' grabbed that gun
Took a shot of cocaine and away I run
I made a good run but I went too slow
They
Hot Toddy
Hot Hot Hot Toddy
It's the brown chick
With the soft lips
And the thick hips
Walk by
Hit the hip switch
Get his dick stiff
Good girl
Still
I got P's
I got Bread up
I got cheddar
I got sauce
I been up on her good side
MJ I'm bad and I'm fried of course
Me and my team yeah we hot like lava
High end high grade I got high taste
Smoke an ounce of Cali by the blunt back at my place
Keep a Voss bottle by the bed just to hydrate
Or mixer if
the fat brown bags of the good shit
Dope is out but I really ain't seen it though
Dope fiends smokin' the shit by the corner store
Broke as fuck kinda
brown bags of the good shit
Dope is out but I really ain't seen it though
Dope fiends smokin the shit by the corner store
Broke as fuck kinda bummy with
and pay the rent
Professional crackslanger I serve fiends
I once went to jail for having rocks up in my jeans
But nowadays I be too smart for
to be dry
'cause after the stronger man supply
But in the drought season it`s too hard to get by
Niggaz be runnin` off with D gafflin muthafuckas,
top of the stove
I go through emotions, but some I'm just not finna show
Haven't I proved to you, I'm always hot when it's cold?
Haven't I proved,
the drought season it's too hard to get by
Niggas be runnin' off with D gafflin' muthafuckas, startin' at chances
'Cause a nigga's mail ain't to muthafuckin'
Like a drive by
I’m so fucking high
I feel the beat but not my face
I know my drank’s too strong
But I can’t even taste it
Going crazy
Cause this bitch
The overtook me down in Juarez Mexico
In the hot joint takin' the pill
There walked the sheriff from Jericho Hill
Willy Lee your name is not Jack Brown
lovin' 44 beneath my head.
Got up next mornin' and I grabbed that gun
Took a shot of cocaine and away I run
Made a good run but I run too slow
They
forty-four beneath my head.
Got up next mornin' and I grabbed that gun
Took a shot of cocaine and away I run
Made a good run but I run too slow
They
forty-four beneath my head.
Got up next mornin' and I grabbed that gun
Took a shot of cocaine and away I run
Made a good run but I run too slow
They
Let me see you dance
Like you burning from a Sun tan
Pompier is there for when
You get too hot
Now let me see that booty drop
Then back and up
Harlem
.jpg/300px-Hot_Hot_Heat_(1659559709).jpg "Hot Hot Heat")
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