Listen to Hot (Remix) [feat. Gunna and Travis Scott] by Young Thug

Hot (Remix) [feat. Gunna and Travis Scott]

Young Thug

Hip-Hop/Rap

Music Video

Hot (Remix) (feat. Gunna and Travis Scott)
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Featured In

Listen to Hot (Remix) [feat. Gunna and Travis Scott] - Single by Young Thug
ALBUMHot (Remix) [feat. Gunna and Travis Scott] - SingleYoung Thug
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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Young Thug
Young Thug
Performer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Jeffery Williams
Jeffery Williams
Songwriter
Sergio Kitchens
Sergio Kitchens
Songwriter
Wesley Glass
Wesley Glass
Songwriter

Lyrics

Wheezy outta here Hot, hot, hot, hot Hot, hot, hot, hot Hot, hot, hot, hot Hot, hot, hot, hot Everything litty, I love when it's hot Turned up the city, I broke off the notch Got some more millis, I keep me a knot I created history and made me a lot He tried to diss me and ended on Fox We call 'em chopsticks 'cause they gonna chop Took her out of Follies 'cause her p- pop I run it like Nike, we got it on lock Cartier eye I'm the bossman in a suit but no tie I can't be sober, I gotta stay high Pour me some - in a Canada Dry Ridin' in the spaceship like Bonnie and Clyde Don't worry, baby, I keep me some fire Shenenehs and Birkins, she cannot decide The latest Mercedes her go-to surprise Don't sleep on miss lady, her - a prize D- in her back while I'm grippin' her sides Bigger Maybach, this ain't regular size We really fly, we like pelican glide B-, you ain't slick, I can tell the disguise Upgraded my wrist, put baguettes in that Sky She sing, I might sign her and change her whole life I told her to gargle and work on her highs Everything litty, I love when it's hot Turned up the city, I broke off the notch Got some more millis, I keep me a knot I created history and made me a lot He tried to diss me and ended on Fox We call 'em chopsticks 'cause they gonna chop Took her out of Follies 'cause her p- pop I run it like Nike, we got it on lock Cash, money, checks, cash Addy, Birkin, brand new extendos I just wanna f- the b- by myself I just passed her to the dawg like my Sprite I took the Bentley coupe back, then I hopped in a Cayenne (skrrt) I put the b- in the front of the Bentley, in front of the driver (Skrrt) Ayy, man, this synthetic weed, you can't smoke in the Rolls Royce, woah, woah (yeah, yeah) I'm still double cupped up, I'm drinkin', I shoot off your tires, huh (doo-doo-doo-doo) I'm in the coupe by myself I had to kick a door when I was 5 Keep the awards on the shelf Whole 16 round in the fire I'm sick and tired of these - act like they firin', they tellin' these lies Actin' like they the ones created this And they get all the drip from my guys Yeah, Cartier eyes Cartier coat, Cartiers the watch Cartier love, Cartier the thot Cartier specs, buffalo on the side Princess cut diamonds, they Cartier, yeah Cartier bag for the Cartier thot Sky Wrangler coupe with two hundred the dash Cartier jeans, ain't no way I can sag Ain't no way I'ma ever gon' go out bad I can't go out, no way I'ma go out I just grip on her a- and I show out I sit like a champ and I wait on a hold-out I just whip up a new Chanel Patek I whip with the wrist and I don't break the door out Turn the whole top floor to a - Hundred racks in ones, dude brought the flood out (ooh) Cash, money, checks, cash (Ooh, ah) Addy, Birkin, brand new extendos (ooh) I just wanna f- the b- by myself (ah) I just passed her to the dawg like my Sprite (ooh, it's lit) Hot like the 504 Boyz how I move through the lobby (hot) Since '012, La Flame been hot just to show you the timeframe (La Flame) Hundred mil' down on my desk, but I'm still up deciding (straight up) Match the M's in my account to the truck in my driveway (skrrt, skrrt) I'm in that four-door by myself Know it's a hundred more n- outside Know they gon' ride 'til the death (ooh) Had some good years, ain't no way I get tired I gotta do what I feel Every day Super Bowl, f-it, oh well I put a lot on myself In the field, Richard Mille on like Odell (let's go) She slid her hand down my pants just to grab the torpedo (doo-doo-doo) I had to go back and link with my slimes like I'm thirteen and zero (it's lit) I told her, "Baby, this not the remix, this a part of the sequel" (part of the seq') No, we not livin' the same, we not makin' the same, we not equal (no), yeah, yeah, yeah Look, mom, I can fly Had some troubles, put that sh- in the sky Brought the angels, know the devil would try It's so hot, you thought Paris Hilton done said it (yeah, yeah) When we come out, we can't help but leave damage (yeah, yeah, yeah) Afterparty, Astroworld out the planet (yeah, yeah) Laid the map out, but they didn't understand it When I'm home, know that I f- on a Grammy, yeah Hot, hot, hot, hot Hot, hot, hot, hot Hot, hot, hot, hot, damn Hot, hot, hot, hot
Writer(s): Jeffrey Williams, Wesley Tyler Glass, Jacques Webster, Sergio Kitchens Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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