Da Heat

Lyrics

[Intro: Kool G Rap] - x2 Still on this paperchase Load the stacks up in the safe Cause champagne tastes with beer money don't cut the cake Me and my peoples play for high stakes Look out for FBI jakes, turn up the ? case and place me upstate [Verse 1: Kool G Rap] But yo its all legal Every last printed bald eagle We started out as small people now we tall and lethal From poverty, to land properties, runnin' monopolies We properly, sit in butter leather shit and mahogany Call it robbery, just as long as I grab the lottery Im tryna prospectally strictly going for jackpottery, obviously Kool G Rap I like a lotta cheese A novelty, models be stripping Like the shit's pornography, the odyssey, lyrical prodigy See my philosophy like Socrates Logically cats follow me catastrophically Apostle G Your role model be and anything less is just a S.O and S. with the apostrophe Fuck all that hypocrisy You know who doctored these lyrics about the street shit first Check my biography, its possibly Cause I was ahead of my time just like a prophecy, monstrosity Niggas wanna copy me like photography [Hook] - x4 Ladies: It's so, It's so hot, I'm heatin' up! Kool G Rap: Straight, bringin' the heat son! [Verse 2: Kool G Rap] We keep the rides flowing, the Glocks blowing, the pockets swollen The poppy seed lye's growing, knots big as Samoans Got cash flowing out the colon Be on the yard dash like Jesse Owens Tryna get strikes and riches like bowling Keep a look out for Jakes patrolling They hate to see niggas be straight and holding mad diamonds glowing, the paper foldin' We rolling Kennedy Caver? status, living it lavish Cop the shit that's as hot as a radish Five and one quarter carats from outta Paris My units is moving quicker than Randy Travis A lyrical style that ravishes, creeping past all your averages Carry my own weight, fuck extra packages Just make sure there's a clique of savages from outta the habitat with bad habits kid! Lift up your whole wig, get you jigged, for just one more hole in the Earth to dig When I spit the shit from out the cig It's nothing short from blood-sport, you get your mug torched Listen to what the thug taught Before you get rocked, down on the block for cops to find your blood corpse From scud missles That I could see, sizzle your blood and tissue Got done by the fake ones and all the unofficials [Hook] - x4 Ladies: It's so, It's so hot, I'm heatin' up! Kool G Rap: Straight, bringin' the heat son!