Urban Lyrics - R&B, Rap, Hip-Hop, Soul, Gospel & Reggae Lyrics
Submit Lyrics     |     Correct Lyrics     |     Request Lyrics     |     New Albums     |     Contact Form     |     Links
A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z # v/a
Print friendly version

[feat. Celph Titled & Apathy]

What is the Question?

[Verse 1:]
Now when I see the man in the mirror
I see an animal clearer
The teeth look sharp, and and ain't a man that's much realer
I do somersaults and flips with nunchucks like a ninja turtle
I'm very bold, I'll sell crack on an infomercial
I tell you what, if I don't get the props I deserve
I'm a leave you bleeding by the curb, and that's my momma's word
Bank account, commas absurd
Cause I sell specialty rap music, And sell out concerts
My favorite spot in the sporting goods, is the hunting section
They got slingshots and crossbows, and other types of weapons
Camouflage vests, and fully stocked with the lead
Next aisle over I can go fishing instead
And to the fake ones, your salaries low
Flow cornier than VH1 romance reality shows
Y'll know, I used the body wash to clean my shotty off
Cause it's been catching back splatter from hacking through body parts

[Verse 2:]
A southern rebel that'll leave your vital levels flat
You won't be hot until you die if the Devil Dap
You about as stupid as that pot that called the kettle black
I be conscious rapping but now even Gepetto's strapped
Here to take the ghetto back, hush the whack stanzas
Taking it back to when rapping was talk 'tween Black panthers
I'm Huey, Newton or Freeman, all of the above
You ain't even Huey Lewis, ain't got no power or love
And what's sadder, you won't touch rungs on Jake's ladder
Universally unworthy of time, space, or matter
You hot as in anger, not as in magma
Dick is Death Valley, You are A-laska
I mastered the range, you mastered the lame
And the day that you're the flame, I'm the rain

[Verse 3:]
Big booty twitter vixen this is something tight {hot}
Even make your main chick say she quite {hot}
Some dumb reason say her prison be {hot}
Fell her gaze blazed at you – laser beam {hot}
Face is the bomb body's detonator {hot}
We talkin' black folk filled elevator {hot}
Think it's cool now? Fool later see us {hot}
Every time you leave think you out being {hot}
Stick to her, forgettin' She's gonna tell you hell is {hot}
And she hope you go in summer when it's even more {hot}
Eyes even glowing terminator red {hot}
Shit would be a past red dot beam {hot}
Shoulder so cold make an igloo seem {hot}
Pushing all the buttons make the topic seem {hot}
This gold made cup make us sip so {hot}

[Verse 4: Apathy]
All these girls man they just want to sweat some starve
But I don't get gassed up like an electric car
And I don't need a ski mask to rob these bitches of they innocence
About to slip gloves, and seduce seven Russian immigrants
Single moms is so DTF
I hit it, quit it, then report the bitch to DCF
I'm so Bobby Brown, not the new edition days
Never stop my ignorant ways
Not as long as pimpin' pays Aps

In the Strip Club, All the dancers look {hot}
Damn all the money stickin to 'em, cause she {hot}
Back sweat make em look {hot}

[Outro: Laugh]

Found a mistake in "Hot" song lyrics? Please correct it!

Back to all CUNNINLYNGUISTS lyrics

Thank you for choosing UrbanLyrics.com!
We will never show you a blank page instead of song lyrics.
Top Song Lyrics Of The Week

"Hot Nigga"

by J. COLE
Top 3 R&B, Rap, Hip-Hop, Soul, Gospel, Reggae artists by lyrics popularity this month

#1 KEVIN GATES lyrics
#2 DRAKE lyrics
#3 NICKI MINAJ lyrics
Our Respect
Top 100 Lyrics
Alive Lyrics
Submit Lyrics | Correct Lyrics | Request Lyrics | Privacy Policy | Advertising Information | Contact Form | Links
"Hot" lyrics is property and copyright of its actual owners and provided for educational purposes and personal use only.
Copyright ©2006-2015 UrbanLyrics