| Now when I see the man in the mirror
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| I see an animal clearer
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| The teeth look sharp, and and ain’t a man that’s much realer
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| I do somersaults and flips with nunchucks like a ninja turtle
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| I’m very bold, I’ll sell crack on an infomercial
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| I tell you what, if I don’t get the props I deserve
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| Imma leave you bleeding by the curb, and that’s my momma’s word
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| Bank account, commas absurd
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| Cause I sell specialty rap music, and sell out concerts
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| My favorite spot in the sporting goods, is the hunting section
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| They got slingshots and crossbows, and other types of weapons
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| Camouflage vests, and fully stocked with the lead
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| Next aisle over I can go fishing instead
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| And to the fake ones, your salaries low
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| Flow cornier than VH1 romance reality shows
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| Y’all know, I used the body wash to clean my shotty off
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| Cause its been catching back splatter from hacking through body parts
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| A southern rebel that’ll leave your vital levels flat
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| You won’t be hot until you die and give the devil dap
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| You about as stupid as that pot that called the kettle black
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| I be conscious rapping but now even Gepetto’s strapped
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| Here to take the ghetto back, hush the whack stanzas
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| Taking it back to when rapping was talk ‘tween Black panthers
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| I’m Huey, Newton or Freeman, all of the above
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| You ain’t even Huey Lewis, ain’t got no power or love
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| And what’s sadder, you won’t touch rungs on Jake’s ladder
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| Universally unworthy of time, space, or matter
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| You hot as in anger, not as in magma
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| Deac is Death Valley, You are A-laska
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| I mastered the range, you mastered the lame
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| And the day that you’re the flame, I’m the rain
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| Strange
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| Big booty Twitter vixen, this is something tight
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| Even make your main chick say she quite
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| Some dumb reason say her prison be
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| Fell her gaze blazing at you — laser beam
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| Face is the bomb: body’s detonator
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| We talkin' black folk filled elevator
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| Think its cool now? |
| Fool later see us
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| Every time you leave think you out being
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| Stick to her, forgettin' she’s gonna tell you hell is
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| And she hope you go in summer when its even more
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| Eyes even glowing terminator red
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| Shit would be a past red dot beam
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| Shoulder so cold make an igloo seem
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| Pushing all the buttons make the topic seem
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| This gold made cup make us sip so
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| All these girls man they just want to sweat some starve
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| But I don’t get gassed up like an electric car
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| And I don’t need a ski mask to rob these bitches of they innocence
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| I’m at the strip club, seducing seven Russian immigrants
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| Single moms is so DTF
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| I hit it, quit it, then report the bitch to DCF
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| I’m so Bobby Brown, not the new edition days
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| Never stop my ignorant ways
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| Not as long as pimpin' pays Ap’s
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| In the strip club, all the dancers look
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| Damn all the money stickin to ‘em, cause she
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| Back sweat make em look |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Hot, artist - CunninLynguists. Album song Strange Journey Volume Three, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп