"Hot Boys" lyrics - TRIPPIE REDD

TRIPPIE REDD

"Hot Boys"

feat. Fooly Faime & Lil Twist

[Intro: Trippie Redd]
Twist on the track
Haha
14, 14, 14
Haha

[Chorus: Trippie Redd]
Run up in your house, haha, ayy
Run up in your house, huh, hey
Thirty to your head, it's to your mouth, huh
I might shoot right at your spouse, huh
Pussy boy, close your mouth
Diamonds on me, woah, shinin' baby, woah
Eyes wide open, but you keep yours closed
Lamborghini doors, butterfly doors
Diamonds on me, woah, wrist look like snow

[Verse 1: Lil Twist]
Addy, percs, and codeine
On the scene since a teen
Double cup full of syrup
Got me leanin' like Kareem
Got me leanin' in your bitch
She get passed around like a meme
She go head first into the coke
Now her face painted like Sting
She go cuckoo off the coco
She go apeshit off the bean
She gon' rape shit off the molly
She gon' take five for the team
She come back for more like a fiend
She gon' bag an O full of weed
Soon as the ho off her knees
Send her back to Cleveland like the king
I rob a nigga like Chyna
Take the whole house in a dream
Take his whole mouth in her jeans
Got the rocket launcher with the beam
Got the pocket monster with the beam
Got the cuban link with the beam
Yeah we pull up clean, make a scene

[Verse 2: Fooly Faime]
Run in your house give me everything
Close your mouth tea black tape
I don't need no mask on
Turn your good day, to a bad day
We the niggas they talking about
We the niggas they wouldn't see
We the brand-new squad up (Woo)
22 I'm currency
And I'm sipping on a dirty tea (Damn!)
And your baby daddy skirted me
And you lying like a mother fucker (What?)
If you saying you ain't heard of me (Liar)
And I'm killing all you fucking rappers
Yeah, that is a first degree
None of y'all can murder me
Run in your house, this a burglary