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jay rock - hottest in the hood lyrics
[intro]
what’s up, red cafe?
had to get on this, my n-gga
ha ha, jay motherf-ckin’ rock, top dawg
[hook]
hottest n-gga in the hood
i’m the hottest n-gga in the hood
i’m the hottest n-gga in the hood
i’m the hottest n-gga in the hood
[verse 1]
i’m the hottest n-gga in the hood
from watts to the beach, comptown to the woods
project animal, chill with the wolves
wish a n-gga would, shoot him till my clip empty
reload, four metal jacket, pull up in a four-door
hop out, ak-47, want war?
vietnam bomb on your front line, boy
gutter as i want to be, shoe range every week
practice ain’t like text messages when i raise the heat
d. wade in black shades on the manhattan beach, boy
show you how to do this, blood
rest in peace for (?), westside love
it’s some cherry red chucks, got my fade, tape it up
mary-kate and ashley in the trunk
birds for thirteen-five
tell jeezy to meet me outside of the (?), hollywood and vine
i f-ck over the game while you right at the p-wn
she gon’ l!ck on her while she ride on mine’s
this is rider music, you stupid if rock don’t shine
every day in office, you called it barack o’brien
drinkin’ cîroc, diddy endorse a n-gga, put my money in stocks
thinkin’ back when i poked holes in a sock
ski mask, ’94, pants dip in the yacht
with a foreign b-tch, all she ever say is, “ya”
cry, frankly, stashed old money and my (?)
hoopty was janky, but now i (?)
blowtorch left his leg and his corpse stanky
dts roll through, tell ’em that it ain’t me
i’m high all day off the (?) all day
like a lawyer who vice for you to slide through the case
i slide through a case of cristal and get buck wild
n-ggas that didn’t f-ck with me, they on my nuts now
ye-ye, from the west but no beats from kanye
i need some 808s, f-ck with me in the lab all day like a scientist
hit the streets, bring bad food for the lion’s den
violent, pullin’ b-tch-n-ggas’ strings like a violin
bet he never f-ck with my vibe again
double x-l, pro club, take it off
b-tch, give me back rubs, f-ck her, then i’m takin’ off
next city, drinkin’ (?), stacks to the b-tches with the biggest -ss
while you’re throwin’ ones, i be throwin’ fifties
i know 50, i’m a tell you why
he chasin’ the billy and so am i
oh, i forgot, the sour (?)
i never fell off, kept the magazine with me on through the (?)
i smoke like a ‘lac exhaust, blowin’ os like it’s doin’ donuts
my dough nuts, got more credentials than winch-ll’s
ha ha, now that’s funny to me
k. dot, these n-ggas ain’t f-ckin’ with me
they be f-ckin’ with blood dolls, leave her (?) in the sheets
i f-ck with model b-tches you would never would see
they pull up in ufos every time we meet
now, tell me who hot in these streets?
j motherf-ckin’ rock just bodied this beat, i’m done
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