The Clipse
The Clipse - Hot Damn (Cot Damn Remix) songtekst
Je score:
(Chorus): Hot damn...it's a new day Hot damn...but the boys wanted money mang Hooo....hooo....hooo....hot damn (Malice): My, how the boy's grown From roamin' ? homes to homes of his own There's no catchin' up, he's in a whole 'nother zone Still true to his roots, stay close to the chrome Haters stay clear of him, y'all stand, cheer for him Got up out the game and overcame, let's hear it for him Keep a new toy, so I wonder how good I'm not enjoying life, I'm reliving my childhood Big chain monster, whip game bonkers Monster truck remind him of Tonka Diamond F-color plus gold, still gut her The ill is in the mills motherfucker, I ain't studder Bittersweet, my life's a musical From holding O's, to rolls gold, the Lord's beautiful Before him, I'm too ashamed to show my face But she's so mean, can't help but to fall from grace Motherfucker (Chorus) (Ab-Liva): Hot damn, when that white hit the pan, it Twists and it tumbles, it Flips and it fumbles, I Mix it like gumbo, I Pitch it so subtle, I Keep hustle ?, I got 'em wonderin' What happened to that boy? Six manuever, how to slip into that toy Enter the pimp, the crook, the hustler thing The man, the music, the making the king I'm simply building my mink Many men marchin' like ? King Kong, the verse makin' the world sing ? just like mine Peekin' through bars, hopin' the sun shines on him But you still got to watch the phonies Watch your homies, we pop pop, got you homie (Chorus) (Pusha T): Ugh...handled the rock like none other Wrist over the stove, head under the cupboard In the kitchen 'til the fumes make him feel smothered The way it melt, fiends can't believe it's not butter The way it melt, he won't cop from none other Than he who holds O's like Krispy Kreme's oven Or easy bake, pink ? make The presidential look like strawberry shortcake (Pharrel): Imagine that Rolls Royce crashed and Me unscratched and billionaire boys for fashion Ugh...you niggas is clones I hand out styles like ice cream cones, man fuck outta here (Pusha T): That's for real, my gats is real The SL5 is lookin' like the Batmobile Chrome lips with the matchin' wheels Both chains probably match your deal Y'all dudes is a act for real Pusha (Chorus) (Roscoe P. Goldchain): Either the sun or death can be looked at That's what an old G told me That was the exact moment I decided to take a path And if you owed me, and if I decided to take it back I would nicely expect Roscoe to put you back in place I don't know what you call a destructive warpath It'll be shell showers in today's forcast You a gangsta? I can't tell Your diamond don't glimmer when the light it it Those jewels are genuine, because if they was, I'm nice with it I would have been took that That skinny stack in your pocket, I would have been shook that In this world you gotta watch it, I'm here to warn ya Cats turnin' former, over ? wrapped in wax My son's home cryin', don't give me no slack Just put your motherfuckin' money in the bag These words are being said as I hide behind glove and mask Goldchain's not your typical crook I'm being watched, look at the camera ladies and push (Chorus)