"It's Hot" as written by Shawn C Carter and Timothy Z Mosley....
Can't stop it, nigga, uh
Mm-hmm, uh-huh, can't stop that
Timberland, uh-huh
Jigga man, uh-huh
Yeah, Brook, Brook-Brooklyn, huh?
That's right
Put your motherfucking hands together, uh-huh
Put your motherfucking hands together
Yo, can't stop it

Yo, show closer, J-to-the-A-Y-Hovah
Place shutter down
Who the fuck'll fuck around?
Game spitter, range sitter, Bentley driver, nigga
Keep a full clip I have to empty out on niggas
Ho bagger, no slacker, get this shit jumpin'
Like eight blacks, fo' crackers, get yo' ass jumped
Crist' sipper, six dipper, wrist glitter, nigga
Gat buster, ass toucher, clit licker
Go against jigga
Yo' ass is dense
I'm about a dollar
What the fuck is 50 cents?
Hot shit, kick a nigga, turn these mics out
My jewelry so bright you can turn these lights out
Hovah's like Noah - keep two in the truck
I'm like U-haul; every bitch move when I fuck
You move slut, I gotta put two in your butt
I'm everything: the when's, why's, who's, and what
Nigga what?

[Chorus: x2]
Hell no, you can't stop it; when it's hot, it's hot
My grind keep me jumpin' out of drop to drop
My shine, lose your sight tryin' to watch the watch
When there's drama, jigga pop, jigga pop, pop

Separate myself from the lame
No, you can't see me
I'm 6-0-0, you 300 C-E
Give my ladies dick, my young hos pee-pee
Hits in a row like MJ, "hee-hee!"
Since I was waist height, late night, bustin' in the clouds
Runnin' wild, comin' home late, cussin' out my mouth
Niggaz said, "Bryan, leave your cousin' in the house."
Every time we play the dozen, he's buggin' out
While y'all was playin' yo-yo, I was sittin' on low pros
Dippin' the po-po, gettin' that dough-dough
No, no, I ain't stupid
I take loot, kid
What's in the bank?
Shoot it
Lose it like I ain't do it
You want to play jigga, nigga
What, you drank fluid?
Got a full tank
Now you want to pull rank?
I clap still, act ill, jigga shoot thee
Give you chest pains, leg sprains absolutely


Thirty-eight revolve like the sun 'round the earth
Try to play hard get; you found round the dirt
Six shell casings found 'round your shirt
In surround sound from the hearse
Jigga man, trigger man, hit your man up
Six shots, hit the pole, hit the van up
Kidnap grown folks; get them grands up
Timberland, hot shit, get them hands up

[Chorus: x2]

Lyrics submitted by oofus

"It's Hot (Some Like It Hot)" as written by Shawn C Carter Shawn Carter

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

Lyrics powered by LyricFind

It's Hot song meanings
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