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Songs | Albums | Album Arts
Lyricist: Young M.A
Lyrics:
(Straight off the top) M.A bring them hoes out Redlyfe bring them poles out
Pull up to the club with a bottle on me (that Henny) I'm already sipping Got five voicemails, I just left the brib And my bitch, she already tripping Blu just rolled a blunt, he like, 'bro you good?' I'm like, 'nah bro, let me hit it' Puff puff drink, I don't wanna think Groupies want a picture, groupies gotta wait I'm in another zone, I'm in another zone My girl getting on my nerves, I ain't going home Ain't got time for this shit (I don't got time for this shit) I ain't got time for this bitch (I don't got time for this bitch) Throwing ones like money grow on trees So when I look down all I see is green Never look for love in the strip club Where all the bartenders give me big hugs, wait Hold up, turn around, tssk, girl Where you think you going with that big butt? Brown water sippin' in that big cup My nigga Bottle only rolling big blunts Chill dude, you are not a tough guy Not the only one with a gun, guy My hitters like shootin' shit for fun, guy Head shot, hit the boy one time Do not come to Brooklyn with that nonsense I used to bag the work in them apartments Now I get a bag for a walkthrough If you want to book me, Big Savage who you talk to While they making disses I'm just making hits 'Cause if it don't make dollars it don't make no sense This is chess, not checkers, learn the game dude But I just can't relate 'cause that's what lames do Big brown bone, she look like Babe Ruth She let me hit it out the park like I'm Babe Ruth Then I hit my dougie, ooh I'm pretty though Bring that Hilfiger back and I'm jiggy though Niggas know I'm hot but they envy though Oh well, at least my bitch is with me ho This her favorite song, this her favorite song (OOOUUU) She get in her Birk when they put this on Owww, that's the thot call OOOUUU, shawty got that hot sauce My guys don't talk, they just pop off If a thot tryna front, she'll get dropped off My homie Sav in that Porsche with the top off I'm in that Audi with some slippers and some socks on Doin' 95 just to piss a cop off Then I pull up to your hood and piss your block off (skrt skrt) Bitch I got that hot sauce I'm so NY with these Timbs on And shoutout to the girls who dont wear sew-ins 'Cause its all about my bitches with the wigs on, OOOUUU You dont got no hot sauce You are not hot, you a knockoff Fuck around boy and get your top knocked off Hear them hoes, yeah they quick to really pop off And them Redlyfe niggas, yeah they pop off And you know this the beat I can bop on Yeah we bop on, New York City bop on 'em Yeah we bop, I'mma bop, I'mma bop on 'em OOOUUU Yeah we got that hot sauce But you niggas got no hot sauce This the type of beat I can bop on I need a quick thot that can top off This the year that I really get my guap on And you know the whole game, I got a lock on It's Young M.A, Redlyfe, got that hot sauce Redlyfe got that hot sauce Shawty you don't got no hot sauce Nah, you don't got no hot sauce You don't got no hot sauce Them Redlyfe niggas got them hot sauce
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