We on Fire pt. 1 lyrics

[Verse 1: Juvenile, Lil Wayne & Turk]
What kinda n*gga that'll go and score
A '98, a '99 off the show room floor?
What? What kinda n*gga young, sittin' on chrome?
Got three or four cars ready to get his shine on?
n*gga—what kinda n*gga leave ya [?] and give a f*ck?
Big nuts and big heart from the start?
What kinda n*gga stay shinin' and ride fly?
What kinda n*gga be bumpin' in drive-bys?
Look, look—what kinda n*gga be burning like a stove?
Worth six figures, hot, walkin' on gold?
What? What kinda n*ggas kill n*ggas in black clothes?
Street-smart and play the game how it goes?
Ah, ah, what kinda n*gga be driving these hoes crazy?
Claimin' that they pregnant, wanna be his ol' lady
Uh, uh—what kinda n*gga be sparklin' like silver?
Lil' bitty soldier thuggin', playing with a million?
Now, what kinda n*ggas tote chops and ride hot?
Huntin' n*ggas down up and down they f*cking block?

[Chorus: Hot Boys]
The Hot Boys, the Hot Boys (Them n*ggas is the—)
Hot Boys, the Hot Boys
The Hot Boys, the Hot Boys (Them n*ggas is the—)
Hot Boys, the Hot Boys
[Verse 2: Juvenile, Lil Wayne & Turk]
What kinda n*gga don't give a f*ck who you is?
Disrespectin' his mind, you jeopardizin' your kids
Yeah, what kinda n*gga run with nothing but head-busters?
Riding at night, hitting like a Louisville slugger?
Lil' mama—what kinda n*gga sport soldiers and 'bauds?
Pimp n*ggas—and f*ck hoes?
What kinda n*gga be duckin' the ATF?
Look, what kinda n*gga got clientele in the 'jects?
Well, what kinda n*gga play beef like a pro?
Keep enemies close and blaze like an optimo?
n*gga—what kinda n*ggas be sharp off the top?
Drive Benz and like diamonds that shine?
Ah, ah—what kinda n*gga put his name on the blimps?
Whoadie, what kinda n*gga make your whole life frightenin'?
Setting it off with 50 shots, strikin' like lightenin'?
Ha—what kinda n*ggas run through ports with keys?
Getting paid seven days a week making Gs?

[Chorus: Hot Boys]
The Hot Boys, the Hot Boys (Them n*ggas is the—)
Hot Boys, the Hot Boys
The Hot Boys, the Hot Boys (Them n*ggas is the—)
Hot Boys, the Hot Boys

[Verse 3: Juvenile, Lil Wayne & Turk]
n*gga, what kinda n*gga got this sh*t under control?
What kinda n*gga stash his bundle in his 'bauds?
Now, hold up—what kinda n*gga got them skanks?
Sayin' he got that fire?
Now—what kinda n*gga clip tight with his click?
Paper chasing and smack a p*ss out a b*tch?
Whoadie—what kinda n*gga you hear about but don't see?
What kinda n*gga go to war like the Middle East?
Say [?], what kinda n*gga make his tramp stay in line
And can bruise your lil' twat at the, uh, same time?
Say, dog—what kinda n*gga be thuggin', lettin' 'em sag?
Gettin' loaded, fully loaded of dime bags?
What kinda n*gga do crime and serve time?
What kinda n*gga ride keys and serve dimes?
Just what kinda n*gga be on top?
Lil' girls respect his mind and he too, too hot
Now, now—what kinda n*ggas be famous living rich?
Tossing hoes, having b*tches sucking his di*k?
[Chorus: Hot Boys]
The Hot Boys, the Hot Boys (Them n*ggas is the—)
Hot Boys, the Hot Boys
The Hot Boys, the Hot Boys (Them n*ggas is the—)
Hot Boys, the Hot Boys