AZLYRICS: Crooked I – Hot Sauce Lyrics
“Hot Sauce”
(feat. Family Bvsiness)
Nod your head like this (Yeah)
Nod your head like this (Yeah)
Nod your head like this (Yeah)
Nod your head like this (Yeah)
Nod your head like this (Yeah)
All my niggas got guns and shit (Yeah)
All my niggas sell drugs and shit (Yeah)
All my niggas got a scholarship (Yeah)
Get a good career and still love this shit (Yeah)
Hot sauce, nigga hot sauce (Yeah)
Everybody got hot sauce (Yeah)
Old school’s with the tops off (Yeah)
Her head hard but the box soft (Yeah)
Born poor we gon’ die rich
Born poor we gon’ die rich
Born poor we gon’ die rich
Hot sauce, nigga hot sauce (Yeah)
Born poor we gon’ die rich
Born poor we gon’ die rich
Born poor we gon’ die rich
Hot sauce, nigga hot sauce
Drip
Yo, they thought I was crazy, crazy
Thought I was crazy, crazy aye
But I got the gravy, gravy
I’m Doctor Sebi aye, (Haha)
Got the secret to life, nigga, that’s why I’m wavy
I’m like Jesus Christ, ’cause when they try to slay me, I’m strapped to a tee
Don’t try to play me (Pop, pop, pop)
Flyest niggas is the crudest with me (Ahh)
Fuck Burberry, Gucci, Fendi (Yeah)
Et cetera, trendsetter, bruh
Never needed name brands to be trendy
I’m drippin’ swag when I perspire
I get the bag, you a purse buyer
My bitch is bad like BeBe’s kids
I mean, “Holy Smokes”, church fire
All my niggas got guns and shit (Yeah)
All my niggas sell drugs and shit (Yeah)
All my niggas got a scholarship (Yeah)
Get a good career and still love this shit (Yeah)
Hot sauce, nigga hot sauce (Yeah)
Everybody got hot sauce (Yeah)
Old school’s with the tops off (Yeah)
Her head hard but the box soft (Yeah)
Born poor we gon’ die rich
Born poor we gon’ die rich
Born poor we gon’ die rich
Hot sauce, nigga hot sauce (Yeah)
Born poor we gon’ die rich
Born poor we gon’ die rich
Born poor we gon’ die rich
Hot sauce, nigga hot sauce
Hot sauce, nigga hot sauce
You don’t understand? That’s squad talk
I’m in the strip club with the bartender
I don’t need to drink to get topped off
We hold it down for the Golden State
We move around like we own the place
Outshine us? They know they can’t
We clean just like a fresh coat of paint
I’ma repeat this ’cause I should
No matter where I go, I’m good (Yep)
Even South Park knows Kenny always in the hood
Live the life without havin’ a thing (Yeah, uh)
Ain’t that a bitch?
I’ll battle you for the Cake Hammy cream (Yeah, uh)
I’ll be cake batter rich
808’s make the speakers hum
A better future, I just think of one
They manifest it ’til my kingdom come
Melanin, my skin drinks the sun
Ghetto dope, I’m like Master-P, ho
I’m ghetto though, hot bag of Cheetos
Red Rooster, that’s the key though
Half the world want my Tapatío
All my niggas got guns and shit (Yeah)
All my niggas sell drugs and shit (Yeah)
All my niggas got a scholarship (Yeah)
Get a good career and still love this shit (Yeah)
Hot sauce, nigga hot sauce, (Yeah)
Everybody got hot sauce (Yeah)
Old school’s with the tops off (Yeah)
Her head hard but the box soft (Yeah)
Born poor we gon’ die rich
Born poor we gon’ die rich
Born poor we gon’ die rich
Hot sauce, nigga hot sauce (Yeah)
Born poor we gon’ die rich
Born poor we gon’ die rich
Born poor we gon’ die rich
Hot sauce, nigga hot sauce (Yeah)
Drip
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