Feel That Heat
****' claiming that they want it but they ass gone feel that heat
We loaded with drums we sliding down like when It's time to eat
I keep my distance like corona boy don't get close to me
I'm f***king this bitch she love the taste like damn this bitch A fien
****' hoes they get exposed they don't know I'm A real beast
I calmed down from this shit but I'll still fuck up the scene
Say he ain't heart bout lil' Tj but I'm thugging where he be
I'm A soulja' Ten toes down you can't knock me off my feet
I'm a young **** but A old school bet not play with me
Ain't got no mind ain't got no heart no this ain't what you tryna see
Trenchbaby I been doing this I'm who he want to be
Police can not get to me I play it smart no locking me
A **** popped me in my dream I woke up damn I felt that heat
I'm thinking like damn ain't no way I can't let them steal me
God on my side but the way I think I'm A real demon
She say she love me but I just love when she slob and eating
Go through his block we creeping (Pop him when we see him)
****' changing like the season (Say one thing and I'm a blam him)
My finger really itchy (I been put up for A minute all it takes is one minute "POW POW" have him screaming)
Slide through his block
Fill him up with lead(Yuh)
Police stay up on my head (Huh?)
Tryna send me to the feds (On god)
****' snitching on the low like they ain't never went fed (No cap')
Get to cappin' on the gram bitch I know 'bout where you at (The feds)
Smoking on so many dead ****' the za starting to kick in (The opps')
One foot right up in the streets they say I'm next up in the pin
I told Lil' Wump to keep his eye up on that car he tryna spin
Spin again we flip that whip now you stuck up in that can
I'm so deep off in these streets you keep on playing you "Feel That Heat" (Ha!, Ha!)
Say you speaking on my brudda' you gone be up on A tee'
Have your mama crying at your funeral, like "let him rest in peace!" (Gwap)
Thinking 'bout a "Get Back Gang", nah' **** leave you deceased (He gone)
Tj say A **** want some beef, yea I'm finna' up (Fucked up)
32 up out this glock A headstart you better duck (Like Lebron)
****' sliding 'bout 80 leave that boy car in the dust (Mane stop that shit)
We gone slide down the low hop out on feet and get to bussin' **** (I took him)
(Ayy! hop out on feet and get to bussin' **** Huh? Hop out on feet and get to bussin' **** Huh? Like the russian's **** yea real talk bitch it ain't no discussion **** no cap)
We loaded with drums we sliding down like when It's time to eat
I keep my distance like corona boy don't get close to me
I'm f***king this bitch she love the taste like damn this bitch A fien
****' hoes they get exposed they don't know I'm A real beast
I calmed down from this shit but I'll still fuck up the scene
Say he ain't heart bout lil' Tj but I'm thugging where he be
I'm A soulja' Ten toes down you can't knock me off my feet
I'm a young **** but A old school bet not play with me
Ain't got no mind ain't got no heart no this ain't what you tryna see
Trenchbaby I been doing this I'm who he want to be
Police can not get to me I play it smart no locking me
A **** popped me in my dream I woke up damn I felt that heat
I'm thinking like damn ain't no way I can't let them steal me
God on my side but the way I think I'm A real demon
She say she love me but I just love when she slob and eating
Go through his block we creeping (Pop him when we see him)
****' changing like the season (Say one thing and I'm a blam him)
My finger really itchy (I been put up for A minute all it takes is one minute "POW POW" have him screaming)
Slide through his block
Fill him up with lead(Yuh)
Police stay up on my head (Huh?)
Tryna send me to the feds (On god)
****' snitching on the low like they ain't never went fed (No cap')
Get to cappin' on the gram bitch I know 'bout where you at (The feds)
Smoking on so many dead ****' the za starting to kick in (The opps')
One foot right up in the streets they say I'm next up in the pin
I told Lil' Wump to keep his eye up on that car he tryna spin
Spin again we flip that whip now you stuck up in that can
I'm so deep off in these streets you keep on playing you "Feel That Heat" (Ha!, Ha!)
Say you speaking on my brudda' you gone be up on A tee'
Have your mama crying at your funeral, like "let him rest in peace!" (Gwap)
Thinking 'bout a "Get Back Gang", nah' **** leave you deceased (He gone)
Tj say A **** want some beef, yea I'm finna' up (Fucked up)
32 up out this glock A headstart you better duck (Like Lebron)
****' sliding 'bout 80 leave that boy car in the dust (Mane stop that shit)
We gone slide down the low hop out on feet and get to bussin' **** (I took him)
(Ayy! hop out on feet and get to bussin' **** Huh? Hop out on feet and get to bussin' **** Huh? Like the russian's **** yea real talk bitch it ain't no discussion **** no cap)
Credits
Writer(s): Qortavius Reed, Thomas Wallace
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
© 2024 All rights reserved. Rockol.com S.r.l. Website image policy
Rockol
- Rockol only uses images and photos made available for promotional purposes (“for press use”) by record companies, artist managements and p.r. agencies.
- Said images are used to exert a right to report and a finality of the criticism, in a degraded mode compliant to copyright laws, and exclusively inclosed in our own informative content.
- Only non-exclusive images addressed to newspaper use and, in general, copyright-free are accepted.
- Live photos are published when licensed by photographers whose copyright is quoted.
- Rockol is available to pay the right holder a fair fee should a published image’s author be unknown at the time of publishing.
Feedback
Please immediately report the presence of images possibly not compliant with the above cases so as to quickly verify an improper use: where confirmed, we would immediately proceed to their removal.