500 Degreez

It's the real shit, yeah
500 degreez this time bitch
You already knowYou see me? I eat, sleep, shit and talk snaps so fuck rap
Man I got weed, pills, pistols, or crack
Bitch niggas, "Where ya hearts at?"
Ya'll ain't stuntin' like us bitch niggas, "Where ya cars at?"They like
Wayne why the fuck you dressed in all black?
I'm 'bout to bring CMR back
And all the lames, we done lost thatNow all we got is weezy, weezy, and lil' weezy to fall back
I'm 'bout to lock it from the summer to the fall and back
"It's weezy baby!" the boy is back
And the wheels on my car you got a order thatStop playing, I've been balling jack
You don't want my glock spraying I hit all them cats
You don't want my stomach ache I shit on them cats
I get on them cats fresh and "B" it's all a rap
If I'm the only hot boy then what do you call that?You don't want to fuck with weezy
You don't want to fuck with weezyBitch what? I'll bust ya ass up
Don't even go that round niggas get your cash up
We probably need to clash up, this shit got me 'bout to ass up
They finding niggas in they shit with they ass upIt ain't October thirty first but we gone mask up
And guess what aye, you know I heard they got some nice chains
And for the right price I'll bust the right brain
And mommy hot 'cause I pull up in that white thangOh, but ya nigga might be fly but I still get trifling
Riding through the city just me and my flame
Friday night special professional tight thangA gangsta is who you hearing
I'm in my building with twenty bricks in the ceiling
I'm more real than, I got more scrill than
Got more skill than them there, I'm a cash money millionaire, bitchYou don't want to fuck with weezy
You don't want to fuck with weezy
Hot boy, hot, hot, hot boy
Hot, hot, hot boy, hot, hot, hot boyBaby, let me get the keys to the rover
No, let me get the keys to the house in eastover
So I can throw a 500 degreez platinum party
Than the after party my squad stomping in this bitchFuck a kappa party
Don't go to rapper parties, I'm no rapper man
But when the homies come home we throw a monster jam
And all my people tote chrome we some monsters manWe gone mob to the promise land
I ball big, I'm a tymer man
Son of a stunna steady girl fuck with a hustlerWeezy keep it gutter for ya baby bubba
Baby blue mercedes coupe got it bullet proof
Make me shoot my eighty duke at your fucking roofYou're barkin' with a big dog, nigga fucking roof
Mr. S fuckin' Q I'm the fuckin' truth
Three stripes, baby nice, lot of ice bucket ooohf
That's 500 degreezYou don't want to fuck with weezy
You don't want to fuck with weezy
500, 500, 500, 500 degreezBitch get your mind right
Bitch get your mind right
Bitch get your mind right