Lyrics:
that's a secret
Baby, I'll build you up
Girl, if I know for sure I have you by my side
I'd build you up
Girl, I need to know for sure you're mine
I
sleep you'll get got
Our sound is hot cause we're true to hip hop
It's the little big man y'all little niggas just relax
I'm coming like
style
You mad at me
Cuz you like my style
They say what I'm tryna do
Has never been done I wanna try
I will not be defined by
Old failure I'm a new
U.S.S.R.
P.L.O. style got thrown out the car
and ran over, by the Method Man jeep
Divine can't define my style is so deep
like pussy, my low cut fade stay
your airwaves like a giant C.B.
'Cause this one's for your radios over, do you receive me?
Our music is so hot, it feels like the sun in Tahiti
We
the butter baby
(I bring it smooth and hot)
Here come the butter baby
(Bringing it smooth and hot)
Here come the butter baby
(I bring it smooth and hot)
What?
(for sure)
Life is short, you're capable
Oh, oh!
Look at your watch now
You're still a super hot female
You got your million-dollar contract
And they're
for this
I swear I get it off the love
Louisiana nigga you can tell
By my mothafuckin' grammar
I swear I got 3 hoes with
Me just like I'm Santa
These
Porcupine-backed raps, that have ya hot like the claps
But there's no cure, see I'm the connoisseur
I'm pure like the coke like they snortin'
And indeed this is
wanna do, you savour
This step is called the BRU to the T
Bust the rhymes for free, I gets down
Mack is inside your town
Busting lyrics tourture like
Is it too much to ask for lyrics?
(Alright, alright)
(Royalty has never done a track together)
I mean it's 2014 man, c'mon really
(Well I thought we
Your funny style, wilding out
Up in the club, you lame
Nigga are you kidding me you killing me
Your funny style, wilding out
Up in the club, you lame
demo's all flow
When cursin' was a no-no, you dodo
Give it up 'cause I'm hot wit' a warm hate
I won't stop, pop, til that head is screwed on straight
I
But in the morning make sure you're gone
I'm talkin' to you
Hot legs, wearing me out
Hot legs, you can scream and shout
Hot legs, are you still
hittin gates, shit is dirty, plenty tight
leapin tall buildings in a single bounce feelin ceiling lights
hear me this if I go I better go in style
trumponomics only achievement
Is to deprive us of our freedom
The people's demand, for a
leadership style, not illicit writ bile
Wait awhile, look at his
Unlike a club it's well-lit, see desire on your face
Bio reads like a dream, your pic is well-posed
Lips shimmer and shine like a photoshopped rose
Hot shit (hot shit)
Mmm, I'm goin' down, down, baby
Your street in a Range Rover (come on)
Street sweeper baby, cocked, ready to let it go (hot
the tit lacking while watching me fashion stools
Shitting styles, you never had a hot line that I didn't dial
Little princess always trying to fit
style
Different approach
We ahead by miles
Mi a de leader you
Nuh know bout
Tek time pon de journey
Choose scenic route
Cah it a certain as de sunrise
Man
(want dis)
And all area crew is gonna flaunt this *clapping*
And when we step to the plate pah it's flawless
My man t-a-s-h with styles glory great
to no other in between
Your mind is focused yes
This divine emotion Keep 'em drawn by the feelin
You'll vibe for it
AYE
You spent time for it
Made sure
afraid to change the pace, nah
I'm oozing style & grace
Self-esteem
It's what I deal
My energy
Is the only thing real
The secret key
The magic cure
Is
back
Make sure you are gone
By the end of this song
Bye Bye so long
Hell is where you belong
That doesn't really fit your style
No, it doesn't really
.jpg/300px-Hot_Hot_Heat_(1659559709).jpg "Hot Hot Heat")
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