Featured In

Listen to Hot To Def - Single by Keith Murray
ALBUMHot To Def - SingleKeith Murray

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Keith Murray
Keith Murray
Performer
D.J. EV
D.J. EV
Scratches
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Keith Murray
Keith Murray
Composer
Erick Sermon
Erick Sermon
Composer
Tyrone Fyffe
Tyrone Fyffe
Composer
Leroy Bonner
Leroy Bonner
Composer
Gregory Webster
Gregory Webster
Composer
Andrew Noland
Andrew Noland
Composer
Marshall Jones
Marshall Jones
Composer
Ralph Middlebrooks
Ralph Middlebrooks
Composer
Walter Morrison
Walter Morrison
Composer
Marvin Pierce
Marvin Pierce
Composer
Norman Napier
Norman Napier
Composer
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Sugarless
Sugarless
Producer
Erick Sermon
Erick Sermon
Producer

Lyrics

Intro: 1000 degrees Hot Continuously, yeah Who's that crazy nigga Drinkin crazy pussy out of crazy straw Kicking crazy hardcore, crazy metaphors When I rap competitions perform disappearing acts Niggas 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 niggas is gay Always havin a party with no DJ I had to hold my head in disbelief Them short winded niggas 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 fuck 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 shit 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 niggas know my style I smoke weed on trains and planes Murderous material submerging from my brain Chumpin top dollar niggas into small change And make it hot CHORUS I'm the unfuckwitable 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 Accomodations and compliments of the infrared Theoretically, hypothetically, practically Actually ain't nobody fucking with me I'll sell your stupid ass the Brooklyn Bridge If you think an MC in your camp can fuck 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 nigger dreaming Thinking he can fuck with my enterprise Wake him up, smack em, make him apologize Cause we be on their lemonade type shit I ain't no faggot but you derelicts can suck my dick I make it hot CHORUS (2x)
Writer(s): James Smith, Osten Harvey, Trevor Smith, Marvin Pierce, Le Roy Bonner, Walter Morrison, Norman Napier, Andrew Noland, Marshall Jones, Ralph Middlebrooks, Gregory Allen Webster, Erick Sermon, Keith Murray, Christopher Wallace, Craig Mack, Nair Mc Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
instagramSharePathic_arrow_out