paroles de chanson 400 Degreez - JUVENILE

Ya see me? I eat sleep, shit, & talk Rap
Ya seen that '98 Mercedes on TV? I bought that
I had some felony charges, I fought that
Been sent to no return, but still was bought back
Nigga threw some slangs at me, Whodie I caught that
I punished them lil' bitches before they could carjack
Now I'm lookin' fo' they family & pile up the war bat
If I aint a Hotboy, then what do you call that?
Nigga disrespect me, Imma be in all black
Companied by some niggas 'bout killin' and all that
Me, Cory, & Mercy gettin' dunked on
Ride top down, so we let the trucks pause
In the Jeep, ridin' four deep
I booted up at these nigga claimin' they know me

(You don't want to fuck wit' me)
(You don't want to fuck wit' me)

Bitch, what? I'll bust yo ass up
Don't even go there Whodie, 'cause I'm ready to mask-up
I heard about the money, thats some nice change
For the right price, I'll bust the right frame
Why must a nigga try, I can't do the right thing
Only God knows what the future might bring
Nigga might be shot, nigga might be triffling
Nigga might survive if he 'bout that right flame
Wit' somethin' that'll stop a nigga from playin'
Sum'n like a chopper or a grenade in his hand
Boy, look, nigga don't play no games no mo'
Nigga'll bust ya head if you bang his hoe
Attitude adjustments, we all need
Don't call the enforcements, nigga call me
I bet cha I get them niggas off ya block
I bet cha I show them niggas this boy Hot

(You don't want to fuck wit' me)
(Hotboy, Hot, Hot, Hotboy)
(Hot,Hot,Hotboy, Hot,Hot,Hotboy)

Alright, stop it...'cause I done had enough
When it comes to my pockets, I'm ready to bust
Baby, lemme get the keys to the Rover truck
Man, lemme get this beef shit over, bruh
Ain't no bit this year, I'm from tha 'Nolia, bruh
Whats yo beef plan? 'Cause it was told to us
How am I be runnin' wit' these killas, & backin' down?
How am I look in front of my people, like a clown?
Tha G-Code, what we live by & we die by
The book is what we will never abide by
Niggas drive by, gettin' loose
Keep 'em wit' each other, like a checker board in use
Up in Compton, or the Watts, nigga
Up in New York, ya keep'em open watch, nigga
'Fore ya get played by a bit of retallion
All fine, young, black females stallions
Give me the keys to ya car and ya medallion
You far away from ya home, yous an alien

(You don't want to fuck wit' me)
(Hot,Hot,Hotboy, Hot,Hot,Hotboy)
(Hot,Hot,Hotboy, Hot,Hot,Hotboy)
(You don't want to fuck wit' me)
(You don't want to fuck wit' me)
(400 Degreez)
(400 Degreez)
(400 Degreez)