Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song The Heat, artist - Twista. Album song ReLoaded, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 14.09.2017
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: GMG Entertainment
Song language: English
The Heat |
Yeah, yeah. |
It’s a no I.D. |
legendary Trackster production. |
Twista… |
I’m a giant, into astrological science |
Rappin phenomenal violence, |
I’m such a honerable tyrant. |
Verbal telekinesis is cuttin fellas to pieces, |
Hell of a thesis, but holy like you could tell it’s from Jesus. |
As good as Pelican Brief is, |
With the force of a sorcerer, never put fork in a pork, |
I’m orchestratin the orchestra. |
Forfit your formula, |
Cause I’m formin a thesaurus of versus, |
Or it’s a chorus or more when I smoke a forrest. |
Super powers like Morphius, Orcious like the orical, |
Portable mp3 players let you play what’s recordable. |
Ledgendary like Trackster, not scared to bury a rapper, |
I’m up for the beef, you just a vegetarian actor. |
Identification is gone have to go by me cause long as I don’t got no I.D. |
Victums don’t got no I.V. |
Intravenously poetry pedeialite I’m a give um, |
They said it was hot so check the media hype. |
Most people waiting, no there’s no escaping, |
The heat. |
The heat. |
The heat |
The heat |
I recolect the era where terra and recommendations |
Of wreckin the mic, respect a mack with no hesitation. |
Meditation or not, I’m givin my praises to Allah, |
Thoughts of takin shit harder an throwin rocks at the Cahaba. |
These days is bout the dolla, |
All of um into ballin, this sounds scannin the cannon |
You ask if it’s all appallin. |
All the braggin is saggin an swaggin an sellin drugs, |
An the thug in tight pants an what happen to yes ya’ll, |
An, sometimes I can’t help the violence when I kick random rhymes, |
Make you shut the fuck up like sinuses or pantomimes, |
Write a autograph for you as if you a fan of mine, |
Cause I got you trippin off the way my grammar rhyme. |
Fixation on my dictation is evident I’m benevolent, |
Cause the flow is elegant, throw like an elephant. |
They shoulda told um that I flow like petroleum, |
An I been cold at the podium sense break dancin on linoleum. |
Most people waiting, no there’s no escaping, |
The heat. |
The heat. |
The heat. |
The heat. |
Coolin with the hustlers eatin rum fish, |
Guns is crisp, |
Can’t stand fake niggas an fake bitches. |
Don’t make me upset my stomach, |
Them killas will come through the bathroom an tie up yer hunny. |
I’m all about my coins but fly Donald Goines a rat, |
Fuck with fly chicken tender loins. |
You know it, you blow it, you know gotta go, |
You can’t live here, word to the mamas that’s a no. |
Surrounded by dons an consularies, |
Don’t get glarey, a refridgerator might fall. |
Don’t worry you a good nigga, stay in that zone, |
You speakin to a rich, real rap nigga, |
Coolin on his throne. |
yeah. |
Kiss yer forehead with lead, |
I got some Chicago nigga that do it quick fast for some bread. |
An my lawyer, an african prince, |
Slid to America with 3 bags of dope in black bags. |
Most people waiting, no there’s no escaping, |
The heat. |
The heat. |
The heat. |
The heat. |