Make It Hot

I, I came to put it down
 Straight from New York to da A-Town
 Haters wanna see me down
 I ain't even put, put, put it down
 And when I'm flippin' the script and they gon be like-Oh
 And if I skip em' or chip em' they gon be like-No
 Cause when I'm spittin' they sittin' cause they already-Know
 This Real Music I Make It Hot
 It's Little Mama voice of the young people
 Mouthpiece for the young breeze so slow ya speed.Whoa!
 I'm about dat fetty, about that dat dough, about dat flow
 After me that's as far as it goes
 Cause Little Mama got whips and chains
 The only time you see it bark is at a tear for I'm a walk ya game
 Been G'd up since Hawk was lain
 So you doubt me you doubt ya brain
 Must, must be insane to ever thinkin' that a chick like B could ever, ever see a chick like me
 That's Crazy!
 And if you ever thought that it might be
 Then you betta step ya J-O-B, Up Baby!
 Been crazy since I was a baby!
 Now ya girl switch write bars and spit crazy
 Let the whole world know I gets crazy!
 Wit da music I make it hot
 Hot, hot my lyrics be popping
 Oh how I could just spit it so sloppy
 The way that I be rocking they probably think I'm cocky
 But they don't know about me I grab it til I lock it-Down
 They pointin' fingaz and chose me cause I'm a hold it-Down
 I'm spittin records and bet this you can't control it-Now
 They spinning' records and notice that I'ma hold it-Down
 Wit da music I make it pop
 Pop, Pop dough school, pro tool,
 Get in da booth and I'ma show you how a pro do
 Me to you whom
 Not even I could stand up when I
 Why try look, my eyes don't lie
 I don't see nobody close as I
 I been lookin' through my periphial vision and I
 Start to wonder hypnosed is I
 Nobody as nice as I remember that I, I, I,
 It's Little Mama!
 Voice of the Young People!
 This Real Music I Make It Hot
 It's Little Mama!