Lil5iveten - Temperature Lyrics

(Uh)
Gang (Slimee-Slimee, Ummmm)
Rrahh-rrahh (Slimee-Slimee, Mmmmm-mmm)
Bow, Bow (Slimee-Slimee, Mm-mmm-mm)
OH MY GOD, DID FINATIC MAKE THIS? (Blttt, Um)
On bro', I did! (Slimee-Slimee, Mmmmm)
Lil5iveten, Lil5iveten (Uh, Gimme' a beat, i'm attackin' it, On bro', Mmmmm-mmm)
Lil5iveten, Lil5iveten (Bitch, Ace lookin' at me like "Brodie, what's happenin'?" Mm-mmm-uh)

I'm on hots, check my temperature
But, i'm the type to be the positive one like an integer
Try to wrestle, I pull out the finisher
Slam at ya
Chop ya 'fro, damage ya
Have you fallin' out
Mortal Kombat, I'ma Finish Ya!
Make yo' ass vanish
I'm a artist, draw the tool, I know how to manage
Split him like he dancin'
Catch a nigga lackin', have him runnin' while he saggin'
And, I ain't takin' shorts, choppa' pants him
Dayumnn

We gon' fold him like clothes then we gon' have to bag him up
Jump in the seat, we ain't crashin' up
Boys dickridin', tryna bag us up
Bro' throwin' the wheel, got em' mackin up
Then, we pop two cars, hell no, we ain't lappin' up
Gun with a potato, i'll mash shit up
He don't want smoke, i'll match him up

Just like John Cena, these niggas can't see us
Shit comin' straight off the top like a caeser, uh
Shake him down, he havin' seizure
He not in the field, lil bro' on the bleachers
Pull out the rocket and blast, speaker
Bro'nem roll up a blunt, shit beatin'
Pass that blunt, lil nigga, you streamin'
Grrahh, Grrahh
Clip long like a pen, i'll ink him
Don't got the gun? On bro', i'ma mink him
Or, if I got the poker? Shank him (Grrahh)
Crossover, i'll f*ck up his ankles
Pop out the cut, with a mask, no prankin'
Bitch, i'm top1, high in the rankings
Grrahh, fold lil bro' like a blanket
Up it and fye', i'ma flame him

Uh
Ummmm, mmmmm-mmm, mm-mmm-mm
Um
Mmmmm, mmmmm-mmm, mm-mmm-uh

I'm on hots, check my temperature
But, i'm the type to be the positive one like an integer
Try to wrestle, I pull out the finisher
Slam at ya
Chop ya 'fro, damage ya
Have you fallin' out
Mortal Kombat, I'ma Finish Ya!
Make yo' ass vanish
I'm a artist, draw the tool, I know how to manage
Split him like he dancin'
Catch a nigga lackin', have him runnin' while he saggin'
And, I ain't takin' shorts, choppa' pants him
Dayumnn

These new niggas be random, but I don't even focus on em'
I'm high as hell, floatin' on em'
So, i'ma shrug the shoulders on em'
And, i'ma cop a Uzi, I Do What I Want
Ask lil mama, "what she want?"
I'ma get her what she want
You know that ain't never nothin'
And, niggas never on nothin'
I don't give a f*ck where ya from
Come thru ya block, that shit "da-da-dun, da-da-dun"
Bangin' a drum
Suck my dick, lil bro', you a scum
On the set, you dumb
You'll get slumped
Two-two-five, shit the size of a thumb
Two-point-five, get stuffed in a blunt

Grrahh-grrahh, open his mata
Bust his shit with a stick, piñata
Like, uh
Slide, cha-cha
I'ma come thru, throw Ten like fye'-fye' (Five-five)
Grrahh-grrahh
And, i'm on the block with a pole like a stop sign
And, I got a knot like hair-tie
Put redtips on his head like hair-dye (Grrahh-Grrahh)

Uh
Ummmm, mmmmm-mmm, mm-mmm-mm
Um
Mmmmm, mmmmm-mmm, mm-mmm-uh

OH MY GOD, DID FINATIC MAKE THIS?
Uh, Gimme' a beat, i'm attackin' it, Ace lookin' at me like "Brodie, what's happenin'?"
Um
Mmmmm, mmmmm-mmm, mm-mmm-uh