Hot to Def Lyrics
| Song | Hot to Def |
| Artist | Keith Murray |
| Album | Enigma |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : Bonner, Fyffe, Jones ... | |
| Intro：1000 degrees hot | |
| Continuously, yeah | |
| Who's that crazy ******* | |
| Drinkin crazy ******* out of crazy straw | |
| Kicking crazy hardcore, crazy metaphors | |
| When i rap competitions perform disappearing acts | |
| *******s ask why the squad be on it like that | |
| Cause we stay with the lethal dosage | |
| Click on the mic mc's run like roaches | |
| Truthfully i think them *******s is gay | |
| Always havin a party with no dj | |
| I had to hold my head in di*******elief | |
| Them short winded *******s tried to smoke the chief | |
| Of the frontal leaf keith | |
| Knowing damn well they can't win | |
| My style is rougher than army gear and old timb | |
| The east coast say ill | |
| The west coast say ill | |
| My squad is def they don't give a ******* | |
| They say kill | |
| Cause we can all sing together | |
| That's why i pack the black gat up under the leather | |
| And keep it hot | |
| Chorus: (3x) | |
| It's 96 degrees in the shade | |
| 1000 degrees | |
| I got nuts like almond joy, like mounds you don't | |
| I say and do a lot of things some fake rappers won't | |
| Now i'm the show shocker plus the show stopper | |
| Down with makin g's and all the block clockers | |
| Down with l.o.d., the motherf-ing cop droppers | |
| Down with def squad flying through your hood in choppers | |
| Yeah we done been in more *******t in the past year | |
| Than the bloods and crips care to hear | |
| Ear to ear, glock to hand, mic to mouth, resuscitation | |
| Psychosomatic creation | |
| Killing off the nation of perpetration | |
| Player hating, bringin confrontation | |
| I'll shoot your hips up and make you bogle like jamaicans | |
| I'm doing my thing, if you feel me do your thing | |
| Y'all *******s know my style | |
| I smoke ******* on trains and planes | |
| Murderous material submerging from my brain | |
| Chumpin top dollar *******s into small change | |
| And make it hot | |
| Chorus | |
| I'm the un*******witable incredible lyrical individual | |
| Boy your not suitable | |
| I work wonders over the beats | |
| It's no wonder phony mc's pee the bed | |
| Relax your head | |
| Accomodations and compliments of the infrared | |
| Theoretically, hypothetically, practically | |
| Actually ain't nobody ******* with me | |
| I'll sell your stupid ass the brooklyn bridge | |
| If you think an mc in your camp can ******* with the kid | |
| I want the sun not to *******ne for six months, to see who fronts | |
| While the squad light up the sky with blunts | |
| If you catch a nigger dreaming | |
| Thinking he can ******* with my enterprise | |
| Wake him up, smack em, make him apologize | |
| Cause we be on their lemonade type *******t | |
| I ain't no ******* but you derelicts can suck my ******* | |
| I make it hot | |
| Chorus (2x) |
| zuo ci : Bonner, Fyffe, Jones ... | |
| Intro: 1000 degrees hot | |
| Continuously, yeah | |
| Who' s that crazy | |
| Drinkin crazy out of crazy straw | |
| Kicking crazy hardcore, crazy metaphors | |
| When i rap competitions perform disappearing acts | |
| s ask why the squad be on it like that | |
| Cause we stay with the lethal dosage | |
| Click on the mic mc' s run like roaches | |
| Truthfully i think them s is gay | |
| Always havin a party with no dj | |
| I had to hold my head in di elief | |
| Them short winded s tried to smoke the chief | |
| Of the frontal leaf keith | |
| Knowing damn well they can' t win | |
| My style is rougher than army gear and old timb | |
| The east coast say ill | |
| The west coast say ill | |
| My squad is def they don' t give a | |
| They say kill | |
| Cause we can all sing together | |
| That' s why i pack the black gat up under the leather | |
| And keep it hot | |
| Chorus: 3x | |
| It' s 96 degrees in the shade | |
| 1000 degrees | |
| I got nuts like almond joy, like mounds you don' t | |
| I say and do a lot of things some fake rappers won' t | |
| Now i' m the show shocker plus the show stopper | |
| Down with makin g' s and all the block clockers | |
| Down with l. o. d., the motherfing cop droppers | |
| Down with def squad flying through your hood in choppers | |
| Yeah we done been in more t in the past year | |
| Than the bloods and crips care to hear | |
| Ear to ear, glock to hand, mic to mouth, resuscitation | |
| Psychosomatic creation | |
| Killing off the nation of perpetration | |
| Player hating, bringin confrontation | |
| I' ll shoot your hips up and make you bogle like jamaicans | |
| I' m doing my thing, if you feel me do your thing | |
| Y' all s know my style | |
| I smoke on trains and planes | |
| Murderous material submerging from my brain | |
| Chumpin top dollar s into small change | |
| And make it hot | |
| Chorus | |
| I' m the un witable incredible lyrical individual | |
| Boy your not suitable | |
| I work wonders over the beats | |
| It' s no wonder phony mc' s pee the bed | |
| Relax your head | |
| Accomodations and compliments of the infrared | |
| Theoretically, hypothetically, practically | |
| Actually ain' t nobody with me | |
| I' ll sell your stupid ass the brooklyn bridge | |
| If you think an mc in your camp can with the kid | |
| I want the sun not to ne for six months, to see who fronts | |
| While the squad light up the sky with blunts | |
| If you catch a nigger dreaming | |
| Thinking he can with my enterprise | |
| Wake him up, smack em, make him apologize | |
| Cause we be on their lemonade type t | |
| I ain' t no but you derelicts can suck my | |
| I make it hot | |
| Chorus 2x |
| zuò cí : Bonner, Fyffe, Jones ... | |
| Intro: 1000 degrees hot | |
| Continuously, yeah | |
| Who' s that crazy | |
| Drinkin crazy out of crazy straw | |
| Kicking crazy hardcore, crazy metaphors | |
| When i rap competitions perform disappearing acts | |
| s ask why the squad be on it like that | |
| Cause we stay with the lethal dosage | |
| Click on the mic mc' s run like roaches | |
| Truthfully i think them s is gay | |
| Always havin a party with no dj | |
| I had to hold my head in di elief | |
| Them short winded s tried to smoke the chief | |
| Of the frontal leaf keith | |
| Knowing damn well they can' t win | |
| My style is rougher than army gear and old timb | |
| The east coast say ill | |
| The west coast say ill | |
| My squad is def they don' t give a | |
| They say kill | |
| Cause we can all sing together | |
| That' s why i pack the black gat up under the leather | |
| And keep it hot | |
| Chorus: 3x | |
| It' s 96 degrees in the shade | |
| 1000 degrees | |
| I got nuts like almond joy, like mounds you don' t | |
| I say and do a lot of things some fake rappers won' t | |
| Now i' m the show shocker plus the show stopper | |
| Down with makin g' s and all the block clockers | |
| Down with l. o. d., the motherfing cop droppers | |
| Down with def squad flying through your hood in choppers | |
| Yeah we done been in more t in the past year | |
| Than the bloods and crips care to hear | |
| Ear to ear, glock to hand, mic to mouth, resuscitation | |
| Psychosomatic creation | |
| Killing off the nation of perpetration | |
| Player hating, bringin confrontation | |
| I' ll shoot your hips up and make you bogle like jamaicans | |
| I' m doing my thing, if you feel me do your thing | |
| Y' all s know my style | |
| I smoke on trains and planes | |
| Murderous material submerging from my brain | |
| Chumpin top dollar s into small change | |
| And make it hot | |
| Chorus | |
| I' m the un witable incredible lyrical individual | |
| Boy your not suitable | |
| I work wonders over the beats | |
| It' s no wonder phony mc' s pee the bed | |
| Relax your head | |
| Accomodations and compliments of the infrared | |
| Theoretically, hypothetically, practically | |
| Actually ain' t nobody with me | |
| I' ll sell your stupid ass the brooklyn bridge | |
| If you think an mc in your camp can with the kid | |
| I want the sun not to ne for six months, to see who fronts | |
| While the squad light up the sky with blunts | |
| If you catch a nigger dreaming | |
| Thinking he can with my enterprise | |
| Wake him up, smack em, make him apologize | |
| Cause we be on their lemonade type t | |
| I ain' t no but you derelicts can suck my | |
| I make it hot | |
| Chorus 2x |
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