Hot Damn Lyrics - Singles - Clipse

Now, they saying we're too hot 

New verses please, c'mon Malice 

Hot damn, it's a new day 

Hot damn, but them boys want the money man 

Uh-huh of course, 'fore you say what you say, hot damn 

My, how the boys roam, from roaming, 

Loc and come home, to homes of his own 

No catching up he's in a whole 'nother zone 

Still true to his roots, stay close to the chrome 

Haters stay clear of him, y'all stand cheer for him 

Got up out the game and overcame, let's hear it for him 

Keep a new toy, so, I wonder how could 

I not enjoy life, I'm re-living my childhood 

Big chain monsta, whip game bonkas 

Monster truck remind him of Tonka 

Diamond F color, plush gold still gutter 

My dealer's in the mills motherfuck' and I ain't studder 

Bitter sweet, my life's a musical 

From holding those to Bose gold, the Lord's beautiful 

Before him I'm too shamed to show my face 

But shit's so, mean I can't help but to fall from grace, motherfucker 

Hot damn, it's a new day 

Hot damn, but them boys want the money man 

Hot damn, when the white hit the pan it 

Twists and it tumbles it, flips and the fumbles 

I mix it like Gumbo, I pitch it so subtle 

I keep hustlers puzzled, Feds I got em wondering 

(Wondering) 

'What Happened To That boy' 

Six maneuver, how'd I slip into that toy 

Is it the pimp, the crook, the hustling thing 

The man, the music that making a king 

I'm simply building my Ming 

A million men marchin' like condom [unverified] 

I'm the King Kong, my verse making the world sing 

My heart's on the sleeve for 

Your face is just like mine 

Peeking from bars hoping the sun shines on 'em 

But, you still got to watch the phonies 

Watch your homies, we got you homie 

Hot damn, it's a new day 

Hot damn, but them boys want the money man 

Uhh, handle the rock like none other 

Grits over the stove, head under the cupboard 

In the kitchen till the fume make me feel smothered 

The way it melt fiends, can't believe it's not butter 

The way it melt he won't cop from none other 

The he who holds O's like Krispy Kreme's oven 

Or easy bake, pink divvies make 

The presidential should look like strawberry shortcake, P 

Imagine that Rolls Royce crashed in, me unscratched in 

That millionaire boys club fashion 

Uh, you niggas is clones 

I hand out styles like ice cream cones, the fuck outta here 

That's Pha real, my gats is real 

The SL5 is lookin' like the Batmobile 

Chrome lids with the matching wheels 

Uh, both chains probably match ya deal 

Y'all dudes is an act fa real, Pusha 

Hot damn, it's a new day 

Hot damn, but them boys want the money man 

Neither the sun or death can be looked at 

That's what an O.G told me 

That was the exact moment I decided to take a pact 

And if you owe me and if I decided to take it back 

It wasn't nicely expect Rosco to put you back, in place 

I'm what you call a destructive warpath 

It'll be a shell shower in today's forecast 

You a gangsta? I can't tell 

You diamonds don't glimmer when the light hit it 

Those jewels aren't genuine, 'cause if they was I'm nice with it 

I woulda' been took that 

That skinny stack in your pocket, I woulda' been shook that 

In this world you gotta watch it, I'm hear to warn ya 

Cats turned informant, over snow wrapped in wax 

My son's home crying, don't give me no slack 

Just put the motherfucking money in the bag 

These words are being said as I hide behind glove and mask 

Coat change not your typical crook 

I'm being watched look at the camera lens in the bush 

Hot damn, it's a new day 

Hot damn, but them boys want the money man