Tattoo lyrics

[Intro: Jody Fontaine]
Hot, Hot, Hot, Hot, Hot, Hot, Hot
Whew
sh*t, sh*t

[Verse 1: Jody Fontaine]
Watch it, b*tch
Watch your f*ckin' mouth
When you talkin' to me
Honestly, imma spaz out
You not rockin' with me
Wait a minute
What's this all about?
n*ggas jockin’ swag
Hold up n*gga
Let me call it out
b*tch I, b*tch I, b*tch I-
Been that n*gga
You just findin' out
That's yo fault
Now pay attention b*tch
Cause once I slide it out
We won't talk
I'm not the Dentist b*tch
But open up your mouth
Drop your drawers
Imma sit down
You gon' pick it up
Watch it fall
What the business is?
24/7 I'm shootin' this sh*t off the hip
I get on the beat and I trip
Like I don't know limits my n*gga I only know hits
b*tch I am as hard as it get
Talk to me nice if you talkin' or you will get -
I'll do you like Will did Chris
I'll hit you dead in your sh*t
You speak on my b*tch
My n*ggas is doublin' up
Cajh sh*t, cajh sh*t
Who really f*ckin' with us
Pockets is stuffed
But it is never enough
I'm goin' 101
I need me a ton
The way I'm acquiring funds
I might have to go get a gun
I feel like Big Pun
Thought you was a killеr
I know I'm a killer cause I get it donе
[Chorus: Jody Fontaine]
b*tch I'm on that
Hot sh*t, that f*cking hot sh*t, I make it hot
This that hot sh*t
And when it drop b*tch
This sh*t gon' pop
Okay throw it back
If you 'bout your mother f*ckin' dollars
Throw your hands up
If you 'bout them mother f*ckin' commas
This that hot sh*t, that f*cking hot sh*t, I make it hot
This that hot sh*t
And when it drop b*tch
This sh*t gon' pop
Okay throw it back
If you 'bout your mother f*ckin' dollars
Throw your hands up
If you 'bout them mother f*ckin' commas
n*gga

[Verse 2: Baby Boy]
This a time crunch
The weight on my wrist like I just bought a brand new Philippe
What you scared for
We killin' the labels they give you a quarter a week
It's not no problem
My n*ggas is violent
So come press the issue with me
We sendin' bombs up
So I think the best course of action for yours to retreat
(1,2,3,4)
Remember subway surfin then we skate to dollar tree
We spent our last on beef patties and CBD
Remember sellin' drugs to the white boys across the street
It seems like those days behind us it's R.I.P
I can't tell you nothin' 'bout the faces that I seen
They wipe my slate and erased it like M.I.B
The police put you under and they tell you c’est la vie
You do the same and they go on a killing spree