Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Make It Hot, artist - LL COOL J. Date of issue: 19.11.1995
Song language: English
Make It Hot |
| Aha, y’nahmean? |
| Word up, just wanna bring em to it real |
| Real rugged like, uhh, man |
| Make me feel like I’m method out and all that, y’nahmean? |
| Go diggin, uhh check it |
| I bring the butter, huh |
| Make you wanna creep up on one another, huh |
| I’m mad sharp like a box cutter, huh |
| I got the fam rollin like brothers, huh |
| We in the mecca, Moey, rollie glistenin |
| Rainin on niggas so bad they think it’s drizzlin |
| Ground zero funk track it’s mega |
| Doin wild damage to your arm, legga legga |
| Who’s that? |
| The bawla, the player, the mister with the techniques |
| Pumpin blends, creepin up the backstreets |
| Throw your rocks up high and let em gleam |
| It’s the Uncle what? |
| Uncle L makes a wild scene |
| And I be blowin all the rookies out the frame |
| And they be knowin Uncle’s flowin in the game |
| Queens to uptown I’m gettin down for my crown |
| When you see me comin thru just gimme a pound |
| And say… |
| Yeah |
| I’m bout to wet it up, get it up |
| Take a track, drape it in jewels and set it up |
| I’m so nasty with mines, I warm it up like raw liquor |
| Dime pieces throw it at me like a free picker |
| I’m open, I let the funk soak in |
| I taste like an eighth, ya freeze and start chokin |
| Yeah son I’m all up in ya mix |
| Ya callin in your clique, I’m bawlin wit’cha trick |
| Golden rocks fallin off my neck and wrists |
| When I breeze by, you be groovin in the midst |
| Of my cycle, every move I make is vital |
| Crucial, official, brothers sayin «L we miss you» |
| Much love to all the shooby doobies and cliques |
| While you’re bawlin in the coupe you know I had to get the six |
| Get your swerve on boo, chill wit me |
| Get me, I want the CREAM, baby hit me |
| Now take it to the bridge |
| (Keep it comin baby) |
| (Keep it comin baby) |
| (Keep it comin baby) |
| (Keep it comin baby) Keep on |
| Somebody tell me the way I keep comin up |
| Funk runnin up and mad spots is blowin up |
| It gets hot when I manifest melodies |
| Beatin niggas all in their heads, so what you tellin me? |
| Get your drink on, throw you mink on |
| Let your head nod, stick it out, that’s what I’m talkin bout |
| I got ya deep deep down inside my mixture |
| Swervin curbs, servin as I fixed ya |
| Formulated and combinated, the people congregated |
| You frontin for nothin, your crew is overrated |
| And I’ma take it on down to the AM |
| Keep the drama flowin til the party cave in |
| Uhh, I get you open, baby come and get a fix |
| Yo, that’s word to mother I be droppin mad shit |
| Let’s organise, bounce together for real son |
| Trick a little though, sip a little Moe, peace one |
| (Keep it comin baby) Keep it goin baby |
| (Keep it comin baby) Keep it goin baby |
| (Keep it comin baby) Keep it goin baby |
| (Keep it comin baby) Keep on |