"The Hotspot" lyrics

"The Hotspot"

Man really had to chop that long one down
Cah it hardly fits
Always got the long coat on when I got that Rambz
Cah it hardly sits
Bad one's got arse and tits
Interview room, don't ask me shit
He got splashed, now I'm gettin' harassed
I'm in a lot of trouble if I park the ting
Real badboy, we don't make up
I ain't even had time for a shape up, shape up
I'm just tryna get my cake up
Wake up, grind all back to the paper
Why they runnin' like Shelly-Ann Fraser, Fraser
Get man down, no wake up
GBG, War Lords, let the streets talk, I don't really say much
A lot of man ain't made for the streets
But they chat and act the part
Work, we don't about theirs
But they definitely know about ours
Blood, sweat, tears and scars
It was me and Slap from the start, in cars
We was always on our block like that block was ours
I was really tryna burn a boy like Steff
Send a location like Dave
Hammer in a bag just bulgin' out
They don't wanna come my way, like Fetty
Skill up front, we ain't scorin' sweaties
Spank him one, call it Ugly Betty, Betty
Make that ring, no celly
Got my D up in her belly
Swing that shit like Shellybelly
Burns my blood, that's family ties, I done it for him already
Hold that shit, gotta grip that steady
We dance with smoke, them man ain't ready
(Uhh-huh)
Aim up high tryna hit man's heady
I ain't ever tryna hit man's leggy
Had a rusty one lookin' old like PEGI
The price on the AP's calm, but I want that Skelly
I ain't had no brekky
But I counted up six already
Me and bro's like Meek and Melly, shelly
Do a man live, no telly


Thanks to CB's forehead for correcting these lyrics.
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