M.J. Olden - Hot Shit
Short and sweetI'm just bouta talk my shit doe
Uhh
Gold on my body, I feel like Razor Ramon
Thick red shawty, I know she gon let me bone
No Question oil, baby this ain't no cologne
I hit 'em with Imitation, now a nigga in his zone
Humble brag, bitch I'm in my bag
Running marathons when niggas thought I was playing tag
Too cool, no Brian, no Scotty
Hands up, it ain't nothing but a Rebel Gang party
Big facts, all we wanna see is big stacks
Get back, you don't wanna see that kid snap
Dis Matt, nigga my go Moe Szyslak
Jiggy motherfucker, I don't even need a 6-pack
Wack niggas, I'm your idol
Ric Flair shit, I'ma need every title
Feeling like PMD, mad niggas on my bozack
I suppose that's what happens when you good at rapping, but
Lately all I'm tryna do is stay out the way
Need a big bag, gotta throw it in the safe
Yeah she look good but I'm not finna chase
Bambu, no funnel, blow the smoke in their face
Yeah nigga this that hot shit
808 make your trunk knock shit
HomeBASS, nah we ain't on no pop shit
Yeen catching us, baby, just stop it
Yeah nigga this that hot shit
808 make your trunk knock shit
HomeBASS, nah we ain't on no pop shit
Yeen catching us, baby, just stop it
And I'm still on my BS
Thought I fell off til I went and hit reset
Pussies don't wanna see the beast yet
Word to my brotha
Cause these niggas still playing like it's recess
And I've had it up to here now
Guess I gotta be the one you bastards fear now
Ain't bouta swell like I'm a star
But I'm way above you niggas
The lens couldn't see that far
And let's talk about these rappers who owe me
First they jump in my DM like we homies
Heard something nice, then they went back home
Jumped on the mic sounding like Young Thug with Down Syndrome
So I'll tell you what's really real
Bouta let these motherfuckers know how I really feel
Your wack ass wanna bust a move, it's whatever
Play yours, play mine, then you tell me who's better, but
Lately all I'm tryna do is stay out the way
Need a big bag, gotta throw it in the safe
Yeah she look good but I'm not finna chase
Bambu, no funnel, blow the smoke in their face
Yeah nigga this that hot shit
808 make your trunk knock shit
HomeBASS, nah we ain't on no pop shit
Yeen catching us, baby, just stop it
Yeah nigga this that hot shit
808 make your trunk knock shit
HomeBASS, nah we ain't on no pop shit
Yeen catching us, baby, just stop it
Written by:
Matthew Olden
Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
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