Testo Fever - Rhymefest
Testo della canzone Fever (Rhymefest), tratta dall'album 20 RAP GEMS
Here go that arrogant, stuffy head, cold leave you aching
From asses that's shaking all night to rest well medicine
It's that (fever) just two of these
Call me in the morning you gon' still feel sick
Cause it's that (fever) I give 'em all a plague
I'm awfully paid and still make a cold starve for days
Never the type that ran whatever the fight I'm in
You half-hearted but I take this medicine like a man
For that (fever) it keep these niggas sweating bullets
Not them the ones that you caught for trying to pull it
It's that (fever) somebody warn the industry
Fest is on fire and burning in the third degree
Till they murder me, 5-0 get no words from me
And if they do then that's perjury
Fever, hot like hot sauce
We got, we got that fever
Then when the sun falls, take your drawers off
We got that fever
Fever, hot like hot sauce
We got, we got that fever
Then when the sun falls, take your drawers off
Yeah we got, we got that fever
Hmm let the pastor wipe sweat from his brow
Accept it and smile, I infect crowds
Hot as Hades I got a lotta ladies
Stripping down to they drawers hitting the floor like ah!
That's him and by him I mean me
By me you seem weak homie like your heart pump green tea
I stack greenbacks then lean back
Storch and hide my torch and leave your ass charcoal black
I got that (fever) you better listen to them old wives tales
I can look in your eyes you high as hell for that (fever)
Rhymefest Pellegrino, I quench thirst
Niggas better act like that pitch work
A work in progress, a pimp's that, you's a work in progress
You still in the sun respect my hotness
So many fine chicks shit's getting monotonous
But still I love the way that she shakes her maracas
For that
Step in the club with my swagger
Niggas get bruised and they battered
Grind mode is what I'm repping and yup
Hot as the grease when it's sizzling
Pops in your eye now you shriveling
Chickens be giggling like (can you feel it?)
Yeah homie I makes that club turn to a sweatbox
Like fifty horny Jamaicans with dreadlocks
Thirty chicks in the lobby, probably five of 'em ready to party
Cause I'm an old funny nigga like Redd Foxx
But this is more than jokes, y'all niggas sorta broke
You can never be hot as me, you can't even afford a coat
I got that (fever) h-h-hot as hell fire
Brimstones, stiletto brim hats, bitches with gems on
Niggas with Timbs on, Jenny Jones to Jim Jones
I get it d-down like Syndrome
I d-r-round like rims on the ghetto King Kong
That sings songs and made a billion dollars on ringtones
Credits
Writer(s): John Davenport, Eddie J. Cooley
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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