"Hot Boys (We On Fire)" as written by Christopher Dorsey, Christopher Dorsey and N Writer Unknown....
Bounce, bounce, bounce
Juvenile and Jigga
The remix

You at the point of no return, ha
If your daddy get out the way with you
You gon' see that he learn, ha
Life's a bitch, ha
Niggas be beggin' but you ain't givin' 'em shit, ha
You stealin' the bricks, ha
You got a wife and three kids, ha
But you be fuckin' around right in the neighborhood you live, ha
You own a truck, ha
With TV's and cd's rimmed up, ha
Fuckin' em up, ha
You won't be stuntin' on your cell, ha
Get your partner some money orders and commence to jail, ha
You 'bout ready to roll a draw, ha
Some of that dro, ha
You 'bout to get you some more, ha
You that nigga with all that cheese, ha
You that nigga that whipped that girl and she called the police, ha
You understand, ha
You ain't gon' cry like a bitch, you gon be a man, ha
Where ever you stand, ha

You a paper chaser, you got your block on fire
Remaining a G until the moment you expire
You know what it is, to make nothing outta something
You handle your biz and don't be crying and suffering

You a paper chaser, you got your block on fire
Remaining a G until the moment you expire
You know what it is, to make nothing outta something
You handle your biz and don't be crying and suffering

You done got yourself in some deep shit
Now you stuck in your house, you gotta peep the remix
You can't go out cause they gon' leave you in a deep ditch
They hit you with consignment, you decide to keep shit
The only reason you alive 'cause you read lips
And you drove on the block low in yo' seat an' shit
Seen em mouthin' off, they don't need this shit
Now they sick of you duckin', dodgin', and weavin' and shit
How they call you when you don't return they beeps
Now they ready to kill you and all your peeps
You done fucked around with some wild niggas
You done fucked off the dough of Juvenile and Jigga's
You better get it back, or sleep where the river's at
They send shots through your fitted cap
They got big guns that go brrrrrrrap, brrrrrrrap, brrrrap
Where your niggas at?

You a paper chaser, you got your block on fire
Remaining a G until the moment you expire
You know what it is, to make nothing outta something
You handle your biz and don't be crying and suffering

You a paper chaser, you got your block on fire
Remaining a G until the moment you expire
You know what it is, to make nothing outta something
You handle your biz and don't be crying and suffering

You gotta get up off your ass, ha
And make the cash, ha
And stay away from them bags, ha
Two and two done come together, ha
Juvi and Jigga, ha
Straight up guerrillas, ha
That nigga Mannie Fresh a fool, ha
He be bringin' it to the bitches on every song that he do, ha
My fuckin' album going plat, ha
You bought the tape, ha
Tell em ain't none of it fake, ha
You got a shipment coming in, ha
During the week, ha
Got a little something for me, ha
Your boy and them be drawin' heat, ha
But that's your whoadie so you gotta find you someone to creep, ha
Nigga tired of livin' fast, ha
Your boy hit the stash, ha
Now you wanna go bust his ass, ha
You keep it real, ha
You don't fuck with no nigga but you will kill, ha
You know how it feel, ha

You a paper chaser, you got your block on fire
Remaining a G until the moment you expire
You know what it is, to make nothing outta something
You handle your biz and don't be crying and suffering

You a paper chaser, you got your block on fire
Remaining a G until the moment you expire
You know what it is, to make nothing outta something
You handle your biz and don't be crying and suffering


Lyrics submitted by sweetkris83

"Ha [Hot Boys Remix][*]" as written by Terius Gray Byron Thomas

Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.

Lyrics powered by LyricFind

Hot Boys (We On Fire) song meanings
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