Hot (In This b*tch) (Remix) lyrics

by

Tyga


[Intro: Gilbere Forte]
We ownin', muthaf*ckin' rollin', ain't nobody f*ckin' with my--

[Chorus: Gilbere Forte]
It's hot in this b*tch, you could be the fan
Try to cool me off, cool me off like damn
Said it's hot in this b*tch, you could be the fan
Try to cool me off, cool me off like
Fli Ci in this b*tch, you could be the fan
Try to cool me off, cool me off like damn
Said it's hot in this b*tch, you could be the fan
Try to cool me off, cool me off like damn

[Verse 1: Jim Jones]
Harlem, big trucks like ?
I rock the big watch with the flooded band
I got n*ggas from the motherland
In the winter you could catch him with a summer tan
I whip the ghost like a go-kart
So then it's tell me when the show starts
I'm coming out flooded like Noah's Ark
And f*ck the light cause you know my wrist glow in the dark
You n*ggas stylin' but you fake wildin'
We four warriors deep when we on ?
They tryna cool me off like antifreeze
But I'm hot like the shots when the hammer squeeze
[Chorus: Gilbere Forte]
It's hot in this b*tch, you could be the fan
Try to cool me off, cool me off like damn
Said it's hot in this b*tch, you could be the fan
Try to cool me off, cool me off like
Fli Ci in this b*tch, you could be the fan
Try to cool me off, cool me off like damn
Said it's hot in this b*tch, you could be the fan
Try to cool me off, cool me off like damn

[Verse 2: Gilbere Forte]
Hold up, it's a new kid on the block
Waited 87 dreams for me to get my shot
With a mean grill you could picture my drop
When I ride through everything just stop
Back on the gas, way ahead of my class
See the pipes burning from the bikes on the Ave
So ahead of my life I let my grandson have
The whole f*cking world, I just throw it in the bag
Midwest kid with flows for all ages
Barbershop clean, nutcracker type flavors
Big ? Versace's, Coogi's, linens
I'll wear Versace's, no socks in my Timberlands
I'm hot like the chicken off the Halal trucks
You a latte n*gga cause I'm getting star bucks
I'm live on the set, the bass brought the streets out
It's hot in this b*tch, y'all n*ggas send a tweet out
[Chorus: Gilbere Forte]
It's hot in this b*tch, you could be the fan
Try to cool me off, cool me off like damn
Said it's hot in this b*tch, you could be the fan
Try to cool me off, cool me off like
Fli Ci in this b*tch, you could be the fan
Try to cool me off, cool me off like damn
Said it's hot in this b*tch, you could be the fan
Try to cool me off, cool me off like damn

[Verse 3: Pusha T]
It's hot in this b*tch, the Gullwing's a sauna
The leather just stick to my skin like Under Armour
Ride with a material girl, the black Madonna
Face like a virgin, she wants me to Lucky Star her
I'm lovin' her aura, shearling by Zara
She take me as I am, tossing weight like Toccara
Decapitated SL's and Audi SLR-a
The last samurai to your roof, sayonara
Eghck! Blood sweat and tears
Through the years, now the new found fame, I call it karma
These n*ggas bipolar, I'm who they love to hate
Praying for my downfall, now they chalk it up to fate
I chalk it up to chalking up the plate that I scrape
Peyton Manning Arm & Hammer with the plays that I make
NFL, that's No f*cking Losses
A great defense makes an even better offense
[Outro: Gilbere Forte]
We ownin', muthaf*ckin' rollin', ain't nobody f*ckin' with my--
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