"Hot In Every City" lyrics
How many times, how many times
Calm before the storm, listen
How many times have I gotta prove I'm sick
With these lyrics and shit?
Flows are all mad
How many times have I gotta shoot this MAC
At a nigga's chest plate to watch his whole frame collapse?
How many times have I gotta smoke a spliff
To forget about the dramas that are happening?
How many songs have I gotta make until I blow?
You don't like my shit? Go suck your dad
I write what gets me gassed
Still that little nigga on the backs
Two sacks of weed in me pocket
'Bout to shot them both to Max
Still in the trap, countin' stacks
Weather its bud though, or swag though or money off the hash
When me dough's low, I get an oz of each and hit the trap
Come back and buy bud and make a few flips like that
I've got me hands in all pies, I pick and choose what I hop into
Could have the swag phone boomin'
But the punters are all boppin' to me music
Scousematic, it's a mad ting
Tryna shot them something and they're talkin' 'bout
"Aren't you that rap king from 'Pool? It must be you"
I'm like "Nah, its not, so what you want, 2 in 2?"
Nigga, this is bait, I had to phone my mate
Like "Yo, jump on this George for me till I see me other mate"
Punters talkin' 'bout, "Ya gonna blow"
I'm like "Save it, bro, what the fuck you know about this music, G?"
You're smokin' on that dope, holes in your clothes
You need to swerve that before you talk to me
About some visions and goals
And all of the tings to be achieved
He said "I know, I fucked up, but don't be like me and fuck up"
I said "I ain't tryna be like you
But I'ma take that advice and give this rap ting a go"
'Cause if it pulls off, I'm nice, true, I'm nice with the flow
Plus I've got game, I'll run right through your ho
So don't have her slippin' round me
I'll have her drippin' down, B
And then strippin' down, when I get them knickers down
She best prepare for action
.35s, pump actions, short 9s and MAC-10s is what a Nigga's graspin'
When its time for blastin'
Calm before the storm, listen
How many times have I gotta prove I'm sick
With these lyrics and shit?
Flows are all mad
How many times have I gotta shoot this MAC
At a nigga's chest plate to watch his whole frame collapse?
How many times have I gotta smoke a spliff
To forget about the dramas that are happening?
How many songs have I gotta make until I blow?
You don't like my shit? Go suck your dad
I write what gets me gassed
Still that little nigga on the backs
Two sacks of weed in me pocket
'Bout to shot them both to Max
Still in the trap, countin' stacks
Weather its bud though, or swag though or money off the hash
When me dough's low, I get an oz of each and hit the trap
Come back and buy bud and make a few flips like that
I've got me hands in all pies, I pick and choose what I hop into
Could have the swag phone boomin'
But the punters are all boppin' to me music
Scousematic, it's a mad ting
Tryna shot them something and they're talkin' 'bout
"Aren't you that rap king from 'Pool? It must be you"
I'm like "Nah, its not, so what you want, 2 in 2?"
Nigga, this is bait, I had to phone my mate
Like "Yo, jump on this George for me till I see me other mate"
Punters talkin' 'bout, "Ya gonna blow"
I'm like "Save it, bro, what the fuck you know about this music, G?"
You're smokin' on that dope, holes in your clothes
You need to swerve that before you talk to me
About some visions and goals
And all of the tings to be achieved
He said "I know, I fucked up, but don't be like me and fuck up"
I said "I ain't tryna be like you
But I'ma take that advice and give this rap ting a go"
'Cause if it pulls off, I'm nice, true, I'm nice with the flow
Plus I've got game, I'll run right through your ho
So don't have her slippin' round me
I'll have her drippin' down, B
And then strippin' down, when I get them knickers down
She best prepare for action
.35s, pump actions, short 9s and MAC-10s is what a Nigga's graspin'
When its time for blastin'
