It's Hot

It's hot in the quarantine
They switched it up to onlyfan
Riding wit them packs in a soccer Mom Uber van
Who da baby sitter
Kilo in da living room
Setup shop like Scarface
Li mama be home real soon
Oh thirsty oh yeah Who thirsty
Buch of Xanax buch of bars comin in This Thursday
Pop hella shht I got a hell of a flip
Birmingham Eastside where you at Take A trip
When I rhyme I carry the gutter wit Me
Blue collar on my back side hustle full Of fifties
Did ya miss me Im in a six speed
Switch gears aint no rapper in here Takin this

I'm the pinnical the truth
In my eyes none greater
Never spend it all in one place
You might want some later

Art work chart work
Tell me how this part work
My debuts the second coming
Expect it like Gods birth

Nigga I could give a fuck
Pick a single
I got dis btt jumpin
Geronimo Catch da lingo

This shht ain't new to me spit at you Therapeutically
The wells never running dry
Cross my heart and hope to dee

I came a long way going down the Wrong way
Play with the wrong shotta
Shht cha block on da same day

Birmingham Eastsider my lighter
Gone spark da best up
Must be outta ya mind
You think I left it on da dresser

We burnin Ls why you niccas takin Losses
I'm so high I can't tell who came back And who lost it

Once upon a time in them Center Point trenches
One of six siblings environment we Lived in

Hello mom say hello to pops for me

Im outside in the rain this time yeah Rihanna wit me
Wanna bump what he want yeah got Dem hands they hollows wit me

Forbyou niccs thought to get me
Just know you niccs cant stick me

Born in Kinston and we ain't cookin Pasta
They drop it in da pot watch it steam Like lobster

I let the gun grip ya head like a tupay
You outta pocket outta options
Now ya souffle

This is not a dream
I'm up early getting cream
Run it up cash out
Splitting pies with my team Gang

Funny how it go when you aint got no Doe
Every since clout hit da doe money Flow grow
And my rello still roll and I still got a Nose
For da runtz and da bluntz wit da cigar Barely closed

And then lies catching up wit ya
Where da hell ya Customers
I'm running up da bandz and I done Sold out of my regular

Iconic motion picture like Im Jap Jones
I'm on another level look how many Pots Blown

Cant stop til I blow up and now they Wanna show up
It outta my hand cousin get cha own Pour up

We bout to run this rap shot

Night chill out for I spill out
Have ya whole Grill Out



Credits
Writer(s): Bryan Vinziant, Byron Vinziant
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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