Keith Murray Hot to Def Lyrics

Intro: 1000 degrees Hot

Continuously, yeah
Who's that crazy *****
Drinkin crazy ***** out of crazy straw
Kicking crazy hardcore, crazy metaphors
When I rap competitions perform disappearing acts
*****s ask why the Squad be on it like that
Cause we stay with the lethal dosage
Click on the Mic MC's run like roaches
Truthfully I think them *****s is gay
Always havin a party with no DJ
I had to hold my head in disbelief
Them short winded *****s tried to smoke the chief
Of the frontal leaf Keith
Knowing damn well they can't win
My style is rougher than army gear and old timb
The east coast say ill
The west coast say ill
My squad is def they don't give a ****
They say kill
Cause we can all sing together
That's why I pack the black gat up under the leather
And keep it hot

CHORUS: (3x)
It's 96 degrees in the shade
1000 degrees

I got nuts like Almond Joy, like Mounds you don't
I say and do a lot of things some fake rappers won't
Now I'm the show shocker plus the show stopper
Down with makin G's and all the block clockers
Down with L.O.D., the motherf-ing cop droppers
Down with Def Squad flying through your hood in choppers
Yeah we done been in more **** in the past year
Than the bloods and crips care to hear
Ear to ear, glock to hand, Mic to mouth, resuscitation
Psychosomatic creation
Killing off the nation of perpetration
Player hating, bringin confrontation
I'll shoot your hips up and make you bogle like Jamaicans
I'm doing my thing, if you feel me do your thing
y'all *****s know my style
I smoke weed on trains and planes
Murderous material submerging from my brain
Chumpin top dollar *****s into small change
And make it hot


I'm the un****witable incredible lyrical individual
Boy your not suitable
I work wonders over the beats
It's no wonder phony MC's pee the bed
Relax your head
accommodations and compliments of the infrared
Theoretically, hypothetically, practically
Actually ain't nobody ****ing with me
I'll sell your stupid *** the Brooklyn Bridge
If you think an MC in your camp can **** with the kid
I want the sun not to shine for six months, to see who fronts
While the Squad light up the sky with blunts
If you catch a ****** dreaming
Thinking he can **** with my enterprise
Wake him up, smack em, make him apologize
Cause we be on their lemonade type ****
I ain't no ****** but you derelicts can suck my ****
I make it hot


Written by: Leroy Bonner, Osten Harvey, Osten S Harvey, M. Jones, Craig Mack, Craig J Mack, Ralph Middlebrooks, Walter Junie Morrison, Keith Omar Murray, Norman Bruce Napier, Melvin Pierce, Clarence Satchell, Erick S Sermon, Gregory Allen Webster
Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group

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