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Hot Damn (feat. Ab-Liva, Pharrell & Rosco P. Coldchain) - Club Mix

Clipse, Ab-Liva, Pharrell Williams, Rosco P Coldchain
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Lyrics

Nana saying we too hot New verses, please Come on Hot damn It's a new day Hot damn Yeah But them boys want the money, man Uh-huh Ooh Of course Ooh Ooh What you say? What you say? Hot damn My, how the boy's grown from roaming Low-income homes 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 reliving my childhood Big chain monster, whip game bonkers Monster truck remind him of Tonka Diamond F color blush gold, still gutter My deal is in the mills, motherfucker, and I ain't stutter Bittersweet, my life's a musical From holding nose to rose gold, the Lord's beautiful Before him I'm too shamed to show my face, but shit he So mean 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 that white hit the pan it twists And it tumbles, it flips and it 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 hustler thing? The man that music done making it king I'm simply building my mink A million men marching like Khan under King Kong reverse making the world sing My heart's on a sleeve for dark faces just like mine Peeking through bars hoping the sun shines on 'em But you still got to watch the phonies Watch your homies be... Got you, homie Hot damn It's a new day Hot damn But them boys want the money, man Ugh Handle the rock like none other Wrists over the stove, head under the cupboard In the kitchen 'til 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 Than he who holds old like Krispy Kreme's oven Or Easy-Bake Pink BBs make- Uh, uh ... The presidential look like strawberry shortcake P Imagine that Rolls-Royce crashed in, me un- Scratched in that Billionaire Boys Club fashion Uh You niggas is clones I hand out styles like ice cream cones The outta here That's for real My gats is real SL5 is looking like the Batmobile Chrome lips with the matching wheel Uh Both chains probably match your deal Y'all dudes is a act for real Pusha Hot damn It's a new day Hot damn But them boys want the money, man Neither the sun nor death can be looked at, that's what a OG told me That was the exact moment I decided to take a pack And if you owe me and if I decided to take it back, it Wasn't nicely, expect Roscoe to put you back in place I'm what you call a destructive war path It'll be shell showers in today's forecast You a gangster, I can't tell Your diamonds don't glimmer when the light hit it Those jewels aren't genuine because if they was I'm nice with it, I would've been took that That skinny stack in your pocket, I would've been shook that In this world you gotta watch it I'm here to warn you Cats turn informer over snow wrapped and 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 Coldchain's not your typical crook I'm being watched, look at the camera lens in the bush Hot damn Yeah It's a new day Hot damn But them boys want the money, man Ooh Ooh Ooh Hot damn