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    KRS-One / Lyrics

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    "Hot" Lyrics

    KRS-One

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    Lyrics

    Yeah, who will be standing when the smoke clears?

    (KRS-One)

    Word up, what's up with this? We're coming through

    Boogie Down style, kid, what's up?

    This is KRS-One, the light at the end of the tunnel

    Yo, they not hot, all they do is talk a lot

    That's not hot, where's your respect on the block?

    That's hot, not 'cause you're friends with the cops

    That's not hot, a real MC you're not

    I'm hot, been hot, repeatedly heated

    Don't call the teacher, hah, you best be seated

    You got these kids gazed up like you own the inventory

    Fake muthafuckas ain't tellin' the whole story

    Tell 'em how you borrow from everyone you knew

    And now that you're on top, they can't borrow from you

    That's not hot, tell 'em how you love bein' pop

    'Cause you was so broke before sleepin' cold on a cot

    You don't rock, you grab money

    Your crocks rock the spot and you grab them honeys

    It's about to get ugly

    I don't even go to these bullshit kiddie-ass clubs

    You wanna be a thug? Let's thug

    First of all, soldiers speak to soldiers

    Captains speak to captains

    Lieutenant, lieutenant, cool?

    But your first mistake is, he's steppin' to me, rookie

    Like you a O.G. and you just a run-up, fool

    Who really got these streets on lock?

    Whose name really holds high respect on the block?

    Who opened up these clubs and taught you how to mix?

    Who opened up these thugs from Compton to the Bricks?

    I don't even sound like the rest of you kiddies

    I study the ways of God, you studyin' titties

    And ass, I pity your class

    'Cause you come out with a blast

    But you're trash, so you really don't last

    They not hot, all they do is talk a lot

    That's not hot, where's your respect on the block?

    That's hot, not cause you're friends with the cops

    That's not hot, a real MC you're not

    They not hot, all they do is talk a lot

    That's not hot, where's your respect on the block?

    That's hot, not 'cause you're friends with the cops

    That's not hot, a real MC you're not

    This is hotter than heat, too deep, I'm on top of the streets

    You weak, you ain't really rockin' these beats

    You [unverified], you dress straight, eat straight

    But you're a slave and yo, you can't come up in a heat tank

    God we thank, we watch what we sell

    You better hope these Christians are wrong 'cause you goin' to hell

    Think about that when you're spittin' your raps

    And you call out KRS, I'll put you flat on your back

    You're not hot, all you do is talk a lot

    That's not hot, where's your respect on the block?

    That's hot, not cause you're friends with the cops

    That's not hot, a real MC you're not

    What's hot?

    (KRS-One)

    That's hot, what's hot?

    (KRS-One)

    That's hot, who's hot?

    (KRS-One)

    That's hot, where's your respect on the block?

    (KRS-One need to be runnin' for office)

    (So Butta-Pican Rican, tell 'em to get off it)
    This song was submitted on June 20th, 2010 and last modified on October 18th, 2016.
    Copyright with Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Universal Music Publishing Group.
    Written by Barry Gibb, Maurice Ernest Gibb, Robin Hugh Gibb, Lawrence Parker.
    Lyrics licensed by LyricFind.

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