Lyrics:
the mic
Can't forget about the O's that I got, and the Rolls in the spot
Y'all know I'm still here right?
How you gonna take a old song, been around so
How many DJ's do you know that's from Russia?
The fanatic, label owner and searcher
Record collector, producer, and jam promoter
Combining with
Feet they walk way and just that sheik posture
Ooooh! Can't be a next one like you
Famous like tapes made by DJ Clue
I tighten up my game as I approach
people will be heard.
[Willie the Kid]
Show you what the soldiers see:
Embassy, Diplomacy,
Since seen infantry,
Shootin' at the cobra fleet.
Deploy
We're about to go down and you know just what to do
Wave your hands in the air like you don't care
Glide by the people as they start to look and stare
(CHORUS)
I'm HOT NIGGA ITS MY TURN I wouldn't TOUCH ME 'cause MY HAND
MY BURN,I'm COLD you ALREADY KNOW you CAN GO BY WAT you HEARD
DEPENDING ON WAT
Ohhh
You know
Who in here man
Killa keem, Fronta
Kellz, Lah rob
Yah digg yah Understand me
Yah heard me
But look you know
If you don’t
call me Charmin
You the Type to get played by a bum bitch and go cry about it
I just get even blow a bag in Neimans and laugh about it
Acting like
Or someone else that you will see
Their trying to leave your destiny
By the time you think about it your grown
And then you gotta say god damn I gotta leave
And most DJs they'll terminate so yo Kev?
What Toddy Tee? Do you think on the east
Coast there could be? What?
Another DJ that can rock deffer?
Yo T what's
clip
Who you know could fly by '05 then '06
When they see that new V the dope boys go crazy
Yeah, You know I still fuck with State P
Still fuck with
Man I hear you niggas talking about it
This is what I do
I be swanging through my city
Windows down and jamming Screw
Call me fresh, Call me fresh
I heard your ex was an alcoholic, hurt your feelings and didn't do right by you
Now though I'm puzzled by how that could possibly be true, I must say
this bad luck
23 years old and I moved up out the beach
But the kid ain't far I just moved up a couple streets
LA home, what you heard about me?
I've
the sandbox niggaz with big glocks
Late night, movin' that junk, like Redd Foxx
Now, you don't want nothin' about me (nah)
You pussy, nigga come fuck with
[Intro]
One two
It's Masta Ace, Cunninlyguists
We about to get into the seasons
The seasons of hip hop
How we gonna start it?
[Masta Ace]
the field
Can't equip the pipe, tell her I need a fix
Four in the morning, got her ass doing tricks
DJ Trae about to put it in the mix
Crack her ass open then
Yup!
1, 2, 3
As it is plan to see
I go by the name of Jermaine Dupri
Dope man fresh in the place to be
And uh
[Chorus]
Oh, I think they like
every day, the blick Gettin' some fresh prints
Anything you heard about it, nigga, Believe I heard about it, it was hard to Believe
I-I can't walk without
I'm headed to my palace
I'm a cowboy bitch I'm rowdy music playing loudly
I'm fresh in my attire you boys just in the choir
I'm rollin' sober take
you walk
Baby I like the way you talk
Tell you something I really can't hide
Heaven must have send you to be by my side
Fresh and lovely (Fresh) like
I'm a Hot Boy minus the cars and bling bling
When I rap, his girl dig me like when R. Kelly sing
I'm fresh on the scene, you wanna talk to me now?
Jin
(Who?)
Party boy
Bitch I stay wasted
So don't call my phone, if you ain't about the green
X-O pill popping, stay posted with my team
Because yeah, a party
Then these rappers start hating
Callin' up to the station
Ask why they record ain't playin'
What you niggas complaining, about?
Shit was funny to us tho
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