Kid Capri - Hot This Year Lyrics
[diamond d]*talking on a phoneYo capri, yo this is diamond, um..Check it out um..i moved the session to next wednesdayAt 12 noon, plug me in at d&d, youll be outta there by one oclockAiight? call me back and umm..give me confirmation.[sadat x]Im ageless, pageless, only want me for that thingHang up the phone, wants to let it ringWit my gold chain, nothing as the hangin ropeWho wanna stay in court plus knowin the fact that Im smokey[lord jamar]Bust you in the back and play the low keyTrustin in the fact that where I go, knowbody knows meMaybe then Ill go to where the weather is more suited to my tasteAnd you got, uprooted in the first place[grand puba]I got the chelle fire, cuz I get deeper than myaStay on shorties domes like them beauty parlor dryersWant some verbal spit from the semi-auto lipYour whole body get hit, then you start dancin and *shit*[diamond d]And Im the, overweight afro-diesiaicI only lick two and pass if your trees be blackI leave the, promoters screamin wont you please be back?Detonating, till bell-bottom lees come backChorusChorus [kid capri]So brand nus, you can make it hot this yearAnd diamond d, you can make it hot this yearSo brand nus, you can make it hot this yearAnd diamond d, youre rollin wit the kid capriBrand nus you can make it hot this yearAnd diamond d, we all can make it hot this yearBrand nus, you can make it hot this yearAnd diamond d, youre rollin wit the kid capri[sadat x]Aight, now heres to yall all and my new bronx addressIm out wit the old *shit*, got a brand new mattressDont want no girl wit no flat chestHow bout the one wit the ? pack less?I tickle you laugh, but I just got the mathOver on park ave, off the concourse on ?She took two and, she could do itMy whole crew got angers wit themSimilar to travellin, salesman hittin things from womenOr whatever[lord jamar]Allah uhakbar, lord jamar spit in devils face like roberto alomarChoke a phillie l like latrell sprewellStraight from the rochelle where the g-o-ds dwellI hope you didnt think that we fellWe drink from the well, and it never runs drySo we never gon dieWe multiply wit mathematics, womens call us charismaticSmoke the aro-matic, too much, guess its a habitChorus[grand puba]Here me dog, cuz a *nigga* aint the run of the millBlow up your body at will, like a chick on the pillI make it hot to death, swing it from right to leftCuz I talk so much *shit* I can taste it on my breathI got the head knock, keep rhyme flows under padlockLike comstock, wit more shoes than a foot lockerAnd it dont stop, diamond d and brand nuBaggin more chickens than that *nigga* frank purdue[diamond d]No more domestication, on some over-seas *shit*Beat a *nigga ass* till he says please quitWhile you home alone marinatin on cheese sticksIm in the back of the burban wit some chinese chicksLookin at a map, one chick on my lapTellin me how she was born in the year of the rapBut by the time we reach the house, theres no waitin in factAll you see is ankles (yeah, what) from the front to the backChorus[kid capri]Big shouts to my peoples all over uptownBig shouts to my peoples all over the worldBrand nubian, big shouts to diamond dBig shouts to diggin in the cratesIts the kid capri, and we puttin it down like thatStraight hip-hop, straight to your mouth, word upIm outta here
