Hotboy Wes – My Lil Dance (feat. Gucci Mane) LYRICS
[Intro: Hotboy Wes, Gucci Mane & Producer Tag]
Lock it up, lock it up
Microwave, microwave, microwave (Kid, 1017 shit, brr)
Mop it up, mop it up
Do my lil’ dance with this ho, you hear? (Well, damn)
Crack my shit on this ho (Go)
[Verse 1: Hotboy Wes]
They got me crackin’ my shit (Damn)
If you in the trenches, they trap with a stick (On God)
They lock me up and they shackle my wrist
I slept on a man, now I’m back in the mix (On God)
You ain’t no savage, don’t lie to me, nigga
I’m from the apartments, my heart in the trenches
Catch me in traffic, a ‘Rari, I’m whippin’
And I’m scratchin’ off like a lottery ticket (On God)
You told on your dawg, that’s a scar on your image (Bitch)
The longer the story, the shorter your sentence
Most of these niggas gon’ do that
Go put a hole in this 2x (Boom, boom)
I came up from nothin’, I’m straight out the gutter
You ni motel
Niggas be hatin’, but oh, well
Under my coat where the tool at (Tool at)
If you want smoke, we can do that (On God)
And in, ain’t no smoke ’cause I blew that (Blew)
Ayy, look how he dance, how he do that? (Bling)
[Chorus: Hotboy Wes]
Look out lil ho, let me do my lil dance
That ain’t my dick, that’s my stick in my pants
I took a risk to get this on my hand
That’s my lil steppa, he click on demand
Mop it up, mop it up, mop it up
Microwave, microwave, microwave
Lock it up, lock it up, lock it up
12 gauge shot ’em up, shot ’em up
Look out lil ho, let me do my lil dance
That ain’t m ’em up
[Verse 2: Gucci Mane]
Look at my diamonds, they do a lil’ dance (Argh)
Ice on my neck and my wrist and my hands (Bling)
Bust down the face and then bust the band (Argh)
Then bust on her face, I just fucked on a fan (Wow)
Fuck you and your man, y’all get popped like a Xan’ (Argh)
Got heat on my waist, I could give ’em a tan (Argh)
I love all my hitters, they click on demand (Love)
Ayy, free my young niggas, let them out the can (For real)
Swear Big Wop, he never gon’ go down
People don’t tew up in the trenches
Niggas be hating, I get it, they still in their feelings
Get found by some niggas who’s fishing
All the subliminal dissing [?] my image
I’m balling like I play for Clemson
Niggas try to ride on my wave ’cause I’m kosher like [?]
I spent like 80 thou on my [?]
[?]
[Chorus: Hotboy Wes]
Look out lil ho, let me do my lil dance
That aie do my lil dance
That ain’t my dick, that’s my stick in my pants
I took a risk to get this on my hand
That’s my lil steppa, he click on demand
Mop it up, mop it up, mop it up
Microwave, microwave, microwave
Lock it up, lock it up, lock it up
12 gauge shot ’em up, shot ’em up