My Lil Dance – Hotboy Wes ft. Gucci Mane
Lyrics:
[Intro: Hotboy Wes & Gucci Mane]
Lock it up, lock it up
Microwave, microwave, microwave (Kid, 1017 sit, brr)
Mop it up, mop it up
Do my lil’ dance with this ho, you hear? (Well, damn)
Crack my sit on this ho (Go)
[Verse 1: Hotboy Wes]
They got me crackin’ my sit (Damn)
If you in the trenches, they trap with a stick (On God)
They lock me up and they shackle my wrist
I slept on a man, now I’m back in the mix (On God)
You ain’t no savage, don’t lie to me, nga
I’m from the apartments, my heart in the trenches
Catch me in traffic, a ‘Rari, I’m whippin’ (Skrrt, Skrrt)
And I’m scratchin’ off like a lottery ticket (On God)
You told on your dawg, that’s a scar on your image (Bih)
The longer the story, the shorter your sentence
Most of these ngas gon’ do that
Go put a hole in this two X (Boom, boom)
I came up from nothin’, I’m straight out the gutter
You ngas can’t go where I grew at (Same street)
I fk on your ho and you not gonna do it
You know I’ma holler out, “Who that?” (Like who is this?)
I bring that bih to your doorbell
Louis V sounds on my coat tale
I used to trap out a motel
Ngas be hatin’, but oh, well
Under my coat where the tool at (Tool at)
If you want smoke, we can do that (On God)
And it ain’t no smoke ’cause I blew that (Blew that)
Ayy, look how he dance, how he do that (Bling)
[Chorus: Hotboy Wes]
Look out, lil’ ho, let me do my lil’ dance
That ain’t my dk, that’s a stick in my pants
I took a risk to get this on my hand
That’s my lil’ stepper, he click on demand
Mop it up, mop it up, mop it up
Microwave, microwave, microwave
Lock it up, lock it up, lock it up
12 gauge shot ’em up, shot ’em up
Look out, lil’ ho, let me do my lil’ dance
That ain’t my dk, that’s a stick in my pants
I took a risk to get this on my hand
That’s my lil’ stepper, he click on demand
Mop it up, mop it up, mop it up
Microwave, microwave, microwave
Lock it up, lock it up, lock it up
12 gauge shot ’em up, shot ’em up
[Verse 2: Gucci Mane]
Look at my diamonds, they do a lil’ dance (Argh)
Ice on my neck and my wrist and my hands (Bling)
Bust down the face and then bust the band (Argh)
Then bust on her face, I just fked on a fan (Wow)
Fk you and your man, y’all get popped like a Xan’ (Argh)
Got heat on my waist, I could give ’em a tan (Argh)
I love my lil’ hitters, they click on demand (Love)
Ayy, free my young ngas, let them out the can (For real)
Free Big Wop, you know it gon’ go down
People don’t trust me, they know that I’m low down (Low)
I was fked up on my deep, down a four-pounds
Now we move bricks and hit licks like the Zoe Pound
I’m making ’em feel it, I’m black as a skillet
[?] spend it (Spend it)
Can’t take that sit with you, I got it, I get it
I live in a mansion, grew up in the trenches (Wow)
Ngas be hating, I get it, they still in their feelings
Get found by some ngas who’s fishing
All the subliminal dissing can’t blemish my image
I’m balling like I play for Clemson (Ballin’)
Ngas try to ride on my wave ’cause I’m kosher like [?]
I spent like eighty thou’ on my Bart Simpson
Straight at the top ain’t no pad, ain’t no pencils (It’s Gucci)
[Chorus: Hotboy Wes]
Look out, lil’ ho, let me do my lil’ dance
That ain’t my dk, that’s a stick in my pants
I took a risk to get this on my hand
That’s my lil’ stepper, he click on demand
Mop it up, mop it up, mop it up
Microwave, microwave, microwave
Lock it up, lock it up, lock it up
12 gauge shot ’em up, shot ’em up
Look out, lil’ ho, let me do my lil’ dance
That ain’t my dk, that’s a stick in my pants
I took a risk to get this on my hand
That’s my lil’ stepper, he click on demand
Mop it up, mop it up, mop it up
Microwave, microwave, microwave
Lock it up, lock it up, lock it up
12 gauge shot ’em up, shot ’em up
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