Thru Ya City (feat. D.V. Alias Khrist)

Oh oh, oh oh oh oh Oh oh, oh oh oh oh, oh We talkin' 'bout Hot times, runnin' through ya city If you miss it now it'll sho' be a pity We got hot times, runnin' through ya city I ain't no thug son, my name is Plug Won I drop a certified gem, for him and her Knockin on your radio, like the Crash Crew Ask whoever you want, I'm managin' the funk on the paper Outside of that we pull capers for days Ridin throughout the maze of street, while we blaze the beat Watchin' the sweet things wiggle they butt To Plug Three, on the cut, movin' on ya what- -Ever ya got, we gon' get, bringin' our point, to ya position Rippin stages with my thought coalition Carryin' on, eradicate all your stress mode Just another episode through these area codes We bankin' on Hot times, runnin' through ya city If you miss it now it'll sho' be a pity We got hot times, runnin' through ya city Hmm It's the hotness, talked about but never seen Like the Loch-Ness, 'til ya cop this, drop it inside your vein And like a train, we be runnin' throughout your legs and arms You're high off our talent and charm Check the caliber, this be a smash Like some food on stage for Gallagher Wear ya bib, cause it's messy Niggas schemin' on "My Girl" as if my name was Jesse Watch your manners! Now let me pass it off to Dave Banner Yo, I set travels like Karen LaRue Small talkin' in the big city, it's all about gettin' the coins Everywhere I go I touch a tenderloin They sportin' a dot com Viet marker bomb On your metro, MARTA order iron horse Yo take the cross and meet a nigga at the butcher I'm cuttin' your girl, we on a world tour Supplyin' your bloodstream with nothin' but the pure uncut, in ya Hot times, runnin' through ya city If you miss it now it'll sho' be a pity We got hot times, runnin' through ya city Mmmm Freak freak freak freak the funk the funk the funk the funk Funk freak the freak the freak the freak the freak the freak Freak freak the funk freak freak the funk We ain't walkin' on a yellow brick road These streets stay' red and bloody kid Study your code, so you can easily pass I stash a little love when I'm on the visitation If you crossin' my line, nigga do the same I'm guaranteed to run through and prove the game Ain't bigger than the pieces in it You see the pieces in it had me stuck travelin' one side of map Clappin' hands with rap cats who ain't deserve dap Long hauls and livin' out a suitcase man Chickenheads and gangs of fruitcakes man Ain't nothin' better than explorin' the outskirts Especially when she ain't got no pantyhose on, and it's on Hot times, runnin' through ya city If you miss it now it'll sho' be a pity We got hot times, runnin' through ya city Mmm Hot times, runnin' through ya city If you miss it now it'll sho' be a pity We got hot times, runnin' through ya city Mmm Yo, it's like, the Mercenary gettin' down (Oh oh, oh oh oh oh, oh) And we got, Dave Banner gettin' down And we got, Maseo gettin' down (Oh oh, oh oh oh oh, oh) And of course, my nigga Eno gettin' down And we got, Jay Dee gettin' down (say word y'all) (Oh oh, oh oh oh oh, oh) And of course, the Slum V gettin' down And we got my man Khrist gettin' down (Oh oh, oh oh oh oh, oh) And we got, Com Sense gettin' down And we got, N.D. gettin' down (Oh oh, oh oh oh oh, oh) You know Troy Hightower gettin' down And we got, C. Smith gettin' down (Oh oh, oh oh oh oh, oh) And my nigga, Dave West gettin' down And we got Mr. Man gettin' down (Oh oh, oh oh oh oh, oh) C'mon C'mon