HOTBOX

Hotbox the whip, by myself, got my veins pumping Hotbox the whip, with the gang, got the stank jumping (Uh) Motherfuck that (Yuh) We acting like some rug rats Let's go start the Chandra They won't be here much longer, no (Ayy) All your music cut low How you paying for your follows, (Ayy) hoe? Artist don't mean shit no more Part of me feels so poor or part of me don't Artists and beats like restaurants Part of me do what the rest want, part of me won't Painting my raps like gango Smoking that gas, that's mando, pressure like tank I ain't been stressing, I think I learned my lesson My shrink told me to make bank Yeah Bible, bible Bullets in my rivals I might pull my side, pull And fill up all your eyeholes I might just go to space (Space) TEN BONG RIPS TO MY FACEEE Yuh, yuh In my face (Ha) Yuh, yuh, yuh Ayy Hotbox the whip by myself I'm that same nigga Hotbox the whip, with my gang Yeah, I game bigger Bitch, I'm talking leaf I've been baking with my bae In L.A., homie 'Cause I got all the weight on me (Yeah) GUN MUSIC, I WILL TEAR YOU TO PEICES I'm in the crevices, caverns and creases I smoke in public That bitch so mad But Lil Darkie, he loved it Yuh, ay, yuh, ay, ay-ay Yuh, huh, yuh, ay, ay-ay (Oh, wait) Yuh, yuh, ay, yuh, yuh-yuh, yuh-yuh Uh, yuh, ay, ay-ay-ay