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Hot, Hot, Hot, Hot, Hot, Hot, Hot
Huh
Sh*t, Sh*t

Watch it, b*t*h
Watch your f**king mouth
When you talking to me
Honestly, imma spaz out
You not rockin' with me
Wait a minute
What's this all about?
N***as [?]
Hold up n***a
Let me call it out
B*t*h I, b*t*h I, b*t*h I
Been that n***a
You just findin' out
That's Joe' Font'
Now pay attention b*t*h
Cause once I slide it out
We won't talk
I'm not the Guinness b*t*h
But open up your mouth
Drop your drawers
Imma sit down
You gon' pick it up
Watch it fall
What the business is?
24/7 no shootin' this sh*t off the hip
I get on the beat and I trip
Like I don't know lyrics my n***a I only know hits
B*t*h I am as hard as it get
Talk to me nice if you talkin' or you gonna get -
I do you like Will did Chris
I hit you dead in your sh*t
You speak on my b*t*h
My n***as is doublin' up
Cash in, cash in
Who really f**kin' with us
Pockets are stuffed
But it is never enough
I'm goin' a hundred and one
I need me a ton
The way I'm acquiring funds
I might havе to go get a gun
I feel like Big Pun
Thought you was a killer
I know I'm a killеr cause I get it done
B*t*h I'm on that
Hot sh*t, that f**king hot sh*t, I make it hot
This that hot sh*t
And when it drop b*t*h
This sh*t gon' pop
Okay throw it back
If you 'bout your mother f**kin' dollars
Throw your hands up
If you 'bout them mother f**kin' commas
This that hot sh*t, that f**king hot sh*t, I make it hot
This that hot sh*t
And when it drop b*t*h
This sh*t gon' pop
Okay throw it back
If you 'bout your mother f**kin' dollars
Throw your hands up
If you 'bout them mother f**kin' commas
N***a

The wet on my wrist like I just bout a brand new Philip
What you scared for
We killin' the labels that give you a quarter a week
no problem
My n***as is violent
So come press the issue with me
We send in [?]
So I think the best course of action for is to retreat
(1,2,3,4)
Remember subway surfing, and we skate to Dollar Tree
We spent our a** on beef patties and CBD
Remember sellin' drugs to the white boys across the street
It seems like those days behind us is R.I.P
I can't tell you nothin' 'bout the faces that I see
They [?] like M.I.B
The police put you under and they tell you c’est la vie
You do the same and they go on a killing spree

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