Hot Car Freestyle lyrics

[Intro: Fredo Santana & Boss Moo]
Yeah DJ Kenn, turn up man
Drop that sh*t man
You know how we comin' man
Squad squad
Squad sh*t no qua sh*t
Gang sh*t no lang sh*t

[Verse 1: Tadoe]
What I say?
I can put them b*tches on the plane or take the road
n*gga you ain't even really gang 'cause you f*ckin' told
And you act like you ain't even trick, boy you f*ckin' bold
And I took yo ass on a hit, and you f*ckin' froze
I done touched a whole honeybun and I ain't touch the work
Why the f*ck you buy that gun if you ain't bust it first?
n*ggas really hoes in the field we'll f*ckin' skirt
I'ma sold you ass hit drink, you a f*ckin' j*rk
58 hunnid for the pint and it nun to us
Told the b*tch to hop on this plane, we gon' run it up
And she gave a young n*gga brain for a tummy tuck
Blue bumma gang be the gang, I'm the runner up
Pay them gangs with this damn gang, I lump 'em up
Hallows hit his motherf*ckin' brain, I stomp him up
c*cker say she wanna hold the whole thing, finna numb her up
And I made a hunnid off them things, finna thumb it up
Thot hoe I hit already, b*tch sum it up
b*tch, I'm in Knoxville
It gives a young n*gga chills how that guap feel
Standing ten toes, cold hearted in this hot field
In the stu smokin' glue off a waxyle
You think that he solid, but he fu, he is not real
I get in that jam I'ma blam, I will not squeal
High as hell, slide do a drill off a ox pill
Damn Tadoe, they ain't ready yet
I did sold two day, I just got a Percocet
This b*tch say she love me and ain't even met me yet
Finna get the top, sloppiana, yeah, heavy neck
Aye, I'm that n*gga hoe
I done f*cked her and her friend, I'm a gigolo
And they break a n*gga heavy checks but I ain't pimpin' tho
And I bought the lil b*tch a bag but I ain't simpin' tho
Go go b*tch, I need a mata
My uber behind the wheel, we'll slide if we had to
Santana got the Drac, we'll up it, it go grata gratara gratara gragra (boom boom bang)
[Verse 2: Boss Gottie]
DJ Kenn All Or Nothing, b*tch I'm goin' in
Boolin' with the gang, my brothers b*tch we all kin
All type of Glock & chops, it's gon make a movie clips
Mixin' drink, percs and xans, it got me high as sh*t
Still posted on the Front, we ain't duckin' sh*t
Still been down yo blocks, yeah we lurkin' b*tch
Catch you, we gon murk you b*tch
You know we on that gang sh*t and that squad sh*t, free murkin' b*tch
Through the city in them hot cars
We ain't worried about tell, we gon' scratch and tell 'em bye bye
That sh*t you smokin', that ain't zaza
If you want it b*tch, I got, but it gon' cost you a lotta
Groupie hoes givin' matta
No you can't hang, you ain't gang, you ain't squad squad
Free poppa b*tch that's gang boy
Pop out with that Drac, no hesitate he gon' bang boy

[Verse 3: Boss Moo]
I been sled on the opps, had to hit them goofies up (They deadass)
Smokin' new pack, no this ain't that f*ckin' Duck (He dead)
And them n*ggas think it's sweet, I'ma hit em up (Dummies)
Call a ambulance, now they gotta pick em up (Pick em up)
Do the race, flame them new n*ggas up (Yoon)
I'm in the 'Raq, what the f*ck y'all thought it was (Chiraq)
We ridin' 'cats, what the f*ck y'all think we in (Yoon)
I caught him lackin' had to get that goofy tinned (Brrp)
[Verse 4: RB Santanna]
Aye, I'm about that action and you know that (You know that)
But b*tch I'm here to talk about my Skrilla like I'm Kodak (Aye)
Pull up in that black & yellow Lamb truck like Bojak (Like Bojak)
He ain't rich enough, he can't afford to buy his hoe back
Aye, that n*gga broke as f*ck, you know that
I'm the young goat but you know I keep a big gat
I don't like McDonald's but you know I keep a big Mac
I don't do no talkin', I don't really do no chit-chat
Aye, he ain't in the churches, he ain't with that
50 in this Glock that b*tch go brr-brrap
Draco with me, aye keep a nick-nack
You make any wrong move folks put your sh*t back
Aye, b*tch I'm in this track, call this a dispatch
Aye, designer back to back, this sh*t mix match
Aye, M-O-N-E-Y, I'm gon' get that
Aye, n*ggas broke as f*ck, that I ain't with that
I been gettin' money since shorty chasin' cheder
If you tweak with gang, we gon' put him on a sweater
We don't give no f*ck, we slid in any type of weather
Hallows tips ain't hit him, they gon' get his ass together
You ain't really like that, n*gga you soft just like some feathers
All gold AP and that b*tch sound like treasure
They can't get no money, cause we applyin' too much pressure
I might get the sack then go take a flight to LA
[Outro: RB Santanna]
Aye, gang gang gang gang
Your b*tch on my di*k, she say what's the gang gang
b*tch she with the f*ck and that pistol go bang bang
We'll take his ice and take his f*ckin' chain chain
Gang gang