JOHN FORTE

JOHN FORTE - Hot (Intro) lyrics

[Intro: Forte]

No need to be scared, you got to be prepared (Nutzbaby!)

No games, just taking names... (Nutbaby!)

I got vendetta son, If I must say, you need to recognize John Forte'...

(Nutzbaby!)

I want two minutes, uninterrupted just to let you know how things go

(Nutzbaby!)

The full on introduction, listen hard I'll put you on to somethin'

(Nutzbaby!)

To Let all the gentlemen and ladies finally meet the Nutzbaby! (Nutzbaby!)

[One Verse: Forte]

I heard the buzz lord, it trapped me

With all these niggas records sounding happy

That's nonsense, so even when I smile I'm kicking street shit you bounce with

You want what?! Affiliated, with some world-reknowneders

fifteen records gold-plated

But it's the Nutzbaby, know your territory 'fore you play it

Is you crazy nigga? Every ghetto block, tastes this gravy

Shady niggas taste to say we unofficial

Grissle, slide dog I'm certified!

You rappers irk me to my heart

With a spike in every tree, odyssey

Sounding like you, gott-a

Be who you be, Centers, don't shoot a three

I hit it hard love, my pain is sincere

I want revenge, wanna get me, Hot this year

it's to stop your career

So brothers sit straight, bragging on the air like you're dead weight

You mid-weight, I'm closer to the street than a mix tape, baby

who you think you dealin' with?!

I'm known to dip, on and off many tracks as I write my own shit

So who fraud? Speak on it god

Get the point, while your shines getting snatched in the club,

I'm gettin' love, In the strip joint, tight!

V.I.P., all downtown, New York baby

Three scoops and have 'em giggling, "Oops, Nutzbaby!"

This a grown man affair, I know thugs who strip 'em bare

and do drugs like breathing air, but I rarely go there

I'm here to think quick, and drink slow

For brothers that I link with, got liquid

Like a flow, shorties actin' stank 'til they seen the video

And wore ins with my mens, I break 'em off like bobby pins,

joyride like Spragga Benz

Only seven niggas in this close, 'til death, an overdose

Manage funds with number one, O.T.'s with baby guns

Chop lock, with Mr. Rash, get laid, with Freddie Suade,

Nelda, you do the books, Pretty Pat, stay paid

And to my mentor, the true inventor, Black Sinatra

The San Diego don, Adolph with Ollie Oshe

So what the deal? That the deal!

I set shit off then peel

And when I sell a million plates, we need to renegotiate

Mostly lately, I'm gettin' on 'em

You're trying to break me? I'm SHITTIN' on 'em!

Well you can hate me 'cause I'm swift

Who the mouthpiece for beef, jealous niggas just reef

You know the stat there, I bless it

I ain't home, leave a message

You a hoe from years ago, John Forte' ain't in the rest here

I let my mens call it, for the ballers if you check it

'Cause All You Gotta Do is make a record!

[Forte': Spoken]

Ay yo Warren man, take that from the top man

I'm-I'm-I'm not feelin' it...

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