doge a g But you ain't a soldier Chopper afford You ain't cobra commander You bolzer I'm the composer Writer of murder The order Leakin' out of Your body temperature
The soft sound of snow crunching underfoot gives me comfort. Her building is at the end of the block. She lives on the north side. Bottom floor. Middle
woman wah inside a you Lady saw yuh knee knock, but yuh fat Mi love the dimple wa yuh got All mi temperature rise and in a the bath a wa we drop Yuh
metal jackets, cut like hatchets Tight as ratchets, and burn like matches Thick than amino acids, flip like gymnastics, nasty as a pissy mattress Droppin like the temperature
[Kurupt] Make the temperature rise, the temperature rise We cap to ride, cap to homicide It's instrumental, heat is in the dead of the winter In the heart
From the bottom to the top, I got 'em From the bottom to the top, I got 'em Yeah that bottom, yeah I'm from the city where the bass drop Where the girls and the temperature
even pissed you could just drop me off at the house 'Cause I ain't really dying by nothin' like this Everythang cool my nigga You could just drop me
and change Stars are born 'round a flashing sun Then it all just stopped The temperature it dropped It was so quiet I couldn't hear The sound of grief
Medina If I'm able, I'd put it on pay-per-view through my label And give free tickets to my neighborhood bums with no cable Yeah, that sounds phat, now
ryde or die nigga, put something in yo eye nigga Get beside yourself and it's bye bye nigga When it come to glock cocking and drop popping I'm the first
'm a 'Ryde or die' nigga, put somethin' in your eye, nigga Get beside yourself, it's bye bye, nigga When it come to glock cockin' an' drop poppin' I'm
Die nigga, put somethin in your eye nigga Get beside yourself it's bye bye nigga When it come to glock cockin and drop poppin I'm the first to hit the
got me on my toes [Chorus] I'm slippin' into the lava And I'm tryin' to keep from going under Baby, who turned the temperature hotter 'Cause I'm
t no more reppins Take the shit back, faggot, we hate that Meet the real, we lock the real, me lock the steel Pop off, pull out, drop them bills I run
man pulls the needle Take that as a warning Take heed or I'll quicken the pitch and make you dance faster The drum is the whip, bass line is the master The temperature
sound Everybody in the club Stop, this beat is killing me [Hey, Dr.DJ come burn this place right down to the ground] My body's aching Takes some over low Temperatures
the sound (Everybody in the club!) Oh, oh, stop, this beat is killing me Hey Mister DJ come burn this place right down to the ground My body's aching System overload Temperature
