Hottie On House Arrest (Feat. Benny The Butcher & Rick Hyde)

Yeah, ghost of Rick James nigga
What you talkin', nigga? (Ah)
Uh

Started off as a runner, me, I started as a captain
I got money and adapt it my last shit was like practise
Y'all could guess what I'm worth but just make sure it's accurate
And add them tour runs up with all the money in the mattress
On the stove I'm like auntie, my footwork like Cassius
We bosses in big crosses nigga's feeling like Catholics
Dope boys of America so we don't pay taxes
The plug crib in the desert, the front yard got a cactus

I show Hot a brick of dope in a Nike box
The 09 doin' bidness out my wifey's spot
Every time I say a verse you know the mic get hot
Like when the fiends smoke and the pipe get hot
I touch down and they bring me my cannon
You know me, I got a ratchet in erry city I land in
The Butcher comin nigga, do do do do do

It's Duffel Bag nigga
Y'all niggas know what the fuck it is
The DA try and jam me up, they played my vids in the courtroom
The Butcher said relax duffel, I'ma pass the torch soon
Them niggas think they got away but they gon' be in clothes soon
My shooters in the field all day with the ProTools
Sly with the typewriter hit a nigga mom crib
Catch me out west smoking cookies at Lebron crib

I'm doing drills in the all black hoody but his mind clear
I'ma boom a nigga broad day right in Times Square
Headshot close range that fuck nigga not spared
Dumb ass boy you shoulda listened to what your moms said
I was in the county cased up watching Seinfeld
He claimed an A1 I put a bullet in his blonde wig
On my Saddam shit cocktail his mom shit
You think I give a fuc? That raggy bitch got 9 kids

Make his bitch ass strip now he think I'm playing Simon says
I'm hanging out the window in a whip in my auntie's wig
I get it green like my nigga are smokin'
His baby moms a dick sucker I see she's wearing a choker
Every time she top me off my plan is to choke her
He violate, I went up top, I send my nigga to poke her
Gimme the green light nigga, uh-huh

BSF shit nigga
Ricky!
Looking like the Sabres with the sticks on us
Hoping no one out the inner circle ever switch on us
Bruce Jenner he turned bitch on us
You gotta check if nigga's ridin' like the lift comin'
I'm in the kitchen sittin patient like a brick comin'
Fresh 10 grams and it only cost me six hundred

I should hit these shits with six of em'
The profit from it six dozen
If they catch me with it then it's six summers
Six, nine, I just flip numbers, Vapormax Kith runners
Betcha nah nigga takin' shit from us
The fiends flocking like it's Knicks pumping
Swear to God it's sick something
They moving to the bass like they fist pumping

Talk like it but you wasn't there
The way we put that one on top of one and
Killed the people it just wasn't fair
Looking like I sold a hundred squares
If I told you what I saw, how it happened, it's a hundred years
It's one table and a hundred chairs, everybody wanna share
They rather elevate it than to run the stairs
I'm that guy, couple pounds like a handshake

I let the pack fly
My pockets shake like Serena that means her racks high
Diamonds dippin' in the water like they baptised
I flip it into water like it capsized
This batch fried, hugh grey 11 loads of the black fives
This black nine the only thing that matter to these black lives