Hot Boys lyrics by Trippie Redd - original song full text. Official Hot Boys lyrics, 2024 version | LyricsMode.com
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Trippie Redd – Hot Boys lyrics
[Chorus: Trippie Redd]
Run up in your house. haha, ayy
Run up in your house, huh, hey
.30 to your head, its to your mouth, huh
I might shoot right at your spouse, huh
Pussy boy close your mouth
Diamonds on me woah
Shawty baby woah
Ice wied open, but you keep [?] closed
Lamborgini doors, butterfly doors
Diamonds on me woah
Wrist look like snow

[Verse 1]
Adding percs and codeine
Own the scene since the team
Double cup full of syrup
Got me leaning like I'm [?]
Got me leaning in your bitch
She can pass around like a [?]
She go head first in the coke
Now face painted like a stain
She go kuku off the coco
She go ape shit off the bean
She gon raid shit off the molly
She gon take five for the team
She come back for more, like a fiend
She gon bag the o full of weed
Soon as the hoe [?]
Send them back to Cleveland like [?]
I rob a nigga like Chyna
Take their whole house and they dream
Take his whole mouth and the genes
Got the rocket launcher with a beam
Got the pockett [?] with the beam
Got the Cuban link with the gleem

[Chorus: Trippie Redd]
Run up in your house. haha, ayy
Run up in your house, huh, hey
.30 to your head, its to your mouth, huh
I might shoot right at your spouse, huh
Pussy boy close your mouth
Diamonds on me woah
Shawty baby woah
Ice wied open, but you keep [?] closed
Lamborgini doors, butterfly doors
Diamonds on me woah
Wrist look like snow

[Verse 2]
Run in your house give me everything
Close your mouth [?] black tape
I don't need no mask on
Turn your good day, to a bad day
We the niggas they talking about
We the niggas they wouldn't see
We the brand new squad up (Woo)
[?] currency
And I'm sipping on a dirty [?] (Damn!)
And your baby daddy skirted me
And you lying like a mother fucker (What?)
If you saying you ain't heard of me (Liar)
And I'm killing all you fucking rappers
Yeah, that is a first degree
None of y'all can murder me
Run in your house, this a burglary

[Chorus: Trippie Redd]
Run up in your house. haha, ayy
Run up in your house, huh, hey
.30 to your head, its to your mouth, huh
I might shoot right at your spouse, huh
Pussy boy close your mouth
Diamonds on me woah
Shawty baby woah
Ice wied open, but you keep [?] closed
Lamborgini doors, butterfly doors
Diamonds on me woah
Wrist look like snow
×



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