"Hot This Year" as written by and Mabon Hodges Al Green....
Yo Capri yo this is Diamond um
Check it out um I moved the session to next Wednesday
At twelve noon plug me in at D&D you'll be outta there by one o'clock
Aiight? Call me back and umm give me confirmation.

I'm ageless pageless only want me for that thing
Hang up the phone wants to let it ring
Wit my gold chain, nothing as the hangin' rope
Who want to stay in court plus knowin' the fact that I'm smokey

Bust you in the back and play the low key
Trustin' in the fact that where I go, nobody knows me
Maybe then I'll go to where the weather is more suited to my taste
And you got, uprooted in the first place

I got the 'Chelle fire, 'cause I get deeper than Mya
Stay on shorties domes like them beauty parlor dryers
Want some verbal spit from the semi-auto lip
Your whole body get hit, then you start dancin' and

And I'm the, overweight afro-diesiaic
I only lick two and pass if your trees be black
I leave the, promoters screamin' "Won't you please be back?"
Detonating, till bell-bottom Lee's come back

So Brand Nu's, you can make it hot this year
And Diamond D, you can make it hot this year
So Brand Nu's, you can make it hot this year
And Diamond D, you're rollin' wit the Kid Capri
Brand Nu's you can make it hot this year
And Diamond D, we all can make it hot this year
Brand Nu's, you can make it hot this year
And Diamond D, you're rollin' wit the Kid Capri

Aight, now here's to y'all all and my new Bronx address
I'm out wit the old *shit*, got a brand new mattress
Don't want no girl wit no flat chest
How 'bout the one wit the ?pack less?
I tickle you laugh, but I just got the math
Over on Park Ave, off the concourse on ?
She took two and, she could do it
My whole crew got anger's wit them
Similar to travellin', salesman hittin' things from women
Or whatever

Allah Uhakbar, Lord Jamar spit in devil's face like Roberto Alomar
Choke a Phillie L like Latrell Sprewell
Straight from the Rochelle where the G-O-D's dwell
I hope you didn't think that we fell
We drink from the well, and it never runs dry
So we never gon die
We multiply wit mathematics, women's call us charismatic
Smoke the aromatic, too much, guess it's a habit


Here me dog, 'cause a nigga ain't the run of the mill
Blow up your body at will, like a chick on the pill
I make it hot to death, swing it from right to left
'Cause I talk so much shit I can taste it on my breath
I got the head knock, keep rhyme flows under padlock
Like comstock, wit more shoes than a Foot Locker
And it don't stop, Diamond D and Brand Nu
Baggin more chickens than that nigga Frank Purdue

No more domestication, on some over-seas shit
Beat a nigga ass till he says "please quit"
While you home alone marinatin' on cheese sticks
I'm in the back of the 'Burban wit some Chinese chicks
Lookin' at a map, one chick on my lap
Tellin' me how she was born in the year of the rap
But by the time we reach the house, there's no waitin' in fact
All you see is ankles (yeah what) from the front to the back

[Chorus ]

Big shouts to my peoples all over Uptown
Big shouts to my peoples all over the world
Brand Nubian, big shouts to Diamond D
Big shouts to Diggin In The Crates
It's the Kid Capri, and we puttin' it down like that
Straight hip-hop, straight to your mouth, word up
I'm outta here

Lyrics submitted by SongMeanings

"Hot This Year" as written by Mabon Hodges Al Green

Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group

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Hot This Year song meanings
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