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Hot sauce – Young M.A lyrics

Lyrics Young M.A – Hot sauce

Straight off the top
M.A bring them hoes out
Redlyfe bring them poles out.(hot sauce)

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 b*tch, 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 b*tch (I don’t got time for this b*tch)
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 b*tch 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)
b*tch I got that hot sauce
So NY with these Timbs on
And shoutout to the girls who don’t wear sew-ins
Cause it’s all about my b*tches with the wigs on, OOOUUU
You don’t got no hot sauce
You are not hot, you a knockoff
f*ck 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’ma bop, I’ma bop on ’em
OOOUUUUUU versuri-lyrics.info
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 that hot sauceee.
Young M.A
Video sauce

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Lyrics

Young M.A – Hot Sauce

[Intro]
Straight off the top
M.A bring them hoes out
Redlyfe bring them poles out

[Verse]
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
So NY with these Timbs on
And shoutout to the girls who don’t wear sew-ins
Cause it’s all about my bitches with the wigs on, OOOUUU
You don’t 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’ma bop, I’ma 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 that hot sauce

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Lyrics

RiFF RAFF – Test Drive Lyrics

[Verse 1: RiFF RAFF]
It’s the tan Peter Pan, pecan sedan
Butterscotch boss, butterscotch Vans
Watch me spend them grands, watch me run up them bands
Bright wristlet, left blank disc
Reveal what she missed, pour a six in my Sunkist
Now watch me pass the time, Rolex with lemon-lime
Lemon pepper, lemon garlic table salt
Drop the top smoking Lamborghini leg lock
I made a hundred grand today, and it wasn’t even payday
Salmon serpent soup, now I’m Babe Ruth
I used to hoop, with crushed jewels on my tooth

[Hook: Wiz Khalifa]
It feels good riding ’round like it’s a test drive
It feels good rolling up the weed to get high
It feels good hanging out with the gang all night
It feels good knowing that everything’s all right
It feels good, good, good
It feels good, good, good
It feels good, good, good
It feels good, good, good

[Verse 2: RiFF RAFF]
On Versace walkie-talkies, in the Oval Office
Dust my shoes off like Dustin Hoffman
Jumped off the Buick like Bon Jovi
Codeine in my coffee, keep these haters off me
Them grands I spend often, higher than a flying saucer
Look who it is, the butterscotch Herschel Walker
When it rained on Biscayne, codeine tears on window pane
40 days 40 nights, wall clean, Oreo cream soda
Syrup in my soda keeps the chip off my shoulder
Every year I get older, my wrist get colder
My chain keeps changing weather, it’s bipolar
JODY HiGHROLLER

[Hook: Wiz Khalifa]
It feels good riding ’round like it’s a test drive
It feels good rolling up the weed to get high
It feels good hanging out with the gang all night
It feels good knowing that everything’s all right
It feels good, good, good
It feels good, good, good
It feels good, good, good
It feels good, good, good

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Lyrics

RiFF RaFF – Test Drive (feat. Wiz Khalifa)

[Verse 1: RiFF RAFF]
It’s the tan Peter Pan, pecan sedan
Butterscotch boss, butterscotch Vans
Watch me spend them grands, watch me run up them bands
Bright wristlet, left blank disc
Reveal what she missed, pour a six in my Sunkist
Now watch me pass the time, Rolex with lemon-lime
Lemon pepper, lemon garlic table salt
Drop the top smoking Lamborghini leg lock
I made a hundred grand today, and it wasn’t even payday
Salmon serpent soup, now I’m Babe Ruth
I used to hoop, with crushed jewels on my tooth

[Hook: Wiz Khalifa]
It feels good riding ’round like it’s a test drive
It feels good rolling up the weed to get high
It feels good hanging out with the gang all night
It feels good knowing that everything’s all right
It feels good, good, good
It feels good, good, good
It feels good, good, good
It feels good, good, good

[Verse 2: RiFF RAFF]
On Versace walkie-talkies, in the Oval Office
Dust my shoes off like Dustin Hoffman
Jumped off the Buick like Bon Jovi
Codeine in my coffee, keep these haters off me
Them grands I spend often, higher than a flying saucer
Look who it is, the butterscotch Herschel Walker
When it rained on Biscayne, codeine tears on window pane
40 days 40 nights, wall clean, Oreo cream soda
Syrup in my soda keeps the chip off my shoulder
Every year I get older, my wrist get colder
My chain keeps changing weather, it’s bipolar
JODY HiGHROLLER

[Hook: Wiz Khalifa]
It feels good riding ’round like it’s a test drive
It feels good rolling up the weed to get high
It feels good hanging out with the gang all night
It feels good knowing that everything’s all right
It feels good, good, good
It feels good, good, good
It feels good, good, good
It feels good, good, good

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Lyrics

Usher – I Don’t Mind lyrics

[Intro]
Yeah
Usher, baby, this is for the A

[Pre-Hook]
Shawty, I don’t mind if you dance on a pole
That don’t make you a ho
Shawty, I don’t mind when you work until three
If you’re leaving with me

[Hook]
Go make that money, money, money
Your money, money, money
Cause I know how it is
Go and handle your biz

[Post-Hook]
And get that money, money, money
Your money, money, money
You can take off your clothes
Long as you coming home, girl, I don’t mind

[Verse 1]
The ballers in here tonight, they gon’ buy a hundred bottles
As soon as you shake it I know they gon’ make it colossal in here
Cause shawty you thinkin’ them tricks that you do with your body
Got all of these niggas they crowding around you like they seen Beyonce in here
You want your own and you need your own, baby, who am I to judge?
Cause how could I ever trip about it when I met you in the club?
I make enough for the both of us, but you dance anyway
You know I was raised in the A

[Pre-Hook]
Shawty, I don’t mind if you dance on a pole
That don’t make you a ho
Shawty, I don’t mind when you work until three
If you’re leaving with me

[Hook]
Go make that money, money, money
Your money, money, money
Cause I know how it is
Go and handle your biz

[Post-Hook]
And get that money, money, money
Your money, money, money
You can take off your clothes
Long as you coming home, girl, I don’t mind

[Verse 2]
When you get off of work I’ll be ready to go in the ‘Rari
And when we get home we’ll have us our own private party in here
So I don’t worry at all about the things they do or say
I love you anyway
You can twerk it while in a split, you racking up them tips
Your body rock and your booty poppin’, I’m proud to call you my bitch
They be lookin’, but they can’t touch you, shawty, I’m the only one to get it
So just go ahead and keep doing what you do, do it

[Pre-Hook]
Shawty, I don’t mind if you dance on a pole
That don’t make you a ho
Shawty, I don’t mind when you work until three
If you’re leaving with me

[Hook]
Go make that money, money, money
Your money, money, money
Cause I know how it is
Go and handle your biz

[Post-Hook]
And get that money, money, money
Your money, money, money
You can take off your clothes
Long as you coming home, girl, I don’t mind

[Bridge]
I’m just tryna cut her up, tryna bust a nut
Tryna take somebody bitch, turn her to a slut
Tryna fill my cup, tryna live it up
Throw some hundreds on that ass, walk her out the club
(Yeah, ho) Lap dance for the first date
Bet I threw a few bands, that’s third base
It’s okay if you work late, we can still party like it’s your birthday
We can still party hard in your birthday suit
Knock that pussy out the park like my name Babe Ruth
Shawty she just want a tip, I just want to see her strip
If you fuck me like you love me shawty you might get rich
Have her own cake, her own place, blow her own gas, no role’
When we in the bed she like to roleplay, tell her friend to join in both ways

[Pre-Hook]
Shawty, I don’t mind if you dance on a pole
That don’t make you a ho
Shawty, I don’t mind when you work until three
If you’re leaving with me

[Hook]
Go make that money, money, money
Your money, money, money
Cause I know how it is
Go and handle your biz

[Post-Hook]
And get that money, money, money
Your money, money, money
You can take off your clothes
Long as you coming home, girl, I don’t mind