Hot Razor Lyrics by $UICIDEBOY$, from the album “YIN YANG TAPES: Spring Season (1989-1990)“, music has been produced by Budd Dwyer & Sam Bo Bachrack, and Hot Razor song lyrics are penned down by Scott Arceneaux Jr. & Aristos Petrou.

Hot Razor Lyrics

Ha-ha-ha, like
Alright, okay
My life would be so shit
Players never die
It’s a Smash!
You did good Slick

I’m with that fuck shit, pull up, we get buck quick
My hoe down like faye, but sometimes she can be a dumb bitch
Out here since a young jit, nitrous got my lungs lit
Wake up from a blackout getting head while I’m in public
Ri-ri-ridin’ through the hood like what it do? Prolly off a pill or two
Pulled that .44 out, they start talkin’ like they Scooby Doo
Mobbin’ with my partners, we pop in, no knockin’
Nod-nod-noddin’ off that dope and for dessert just ate Neurontin
Hit a stain, make a name for a lame TikTok
Northside, Grey the gang, 2nd world, еastern bloc
I might rock it off the flock, I might rock it off apache
I might fuck up on that bitch if shе got a pack of plan B
Mane show you how that Glock work, show you how to pop first
White trash, young man, mop ’em up like Joe Dirt
My hoe like her throat hurt, suck it for a nip tuck
That bitch tried to tell me that I’m sick, so what that make her?
I just bought some land off my LAN, kilo of some GLD
Still the same mane, grippin’ AKs, wearin’ FTP
Paint ’em like a NFT, got them scripts no PHD
My bitch brain insane, but she only got her GED
Gang coast to coast, yeah, I know me a few robbers
Dope game farm to table, ain’t no fent’ up in my product
Huh bruh, damn son, who the fuck raised you?
Cutthroats and them savages, how you think I got this name, boo? (Yeah, yeah, yeah)

I could show you how to get it poppin’
Ruby da Cherry ain’t got no option
All these hoes keep fuckin’ flockin’
All these hoes tryna give me noggin’
Snort a line of heron then tell her she way too toxic
Yeah, I’m slidin’ on these bitches like my feet were made for moppin’
I can’t stop it if i wanted to, Glock up in my foreign coupe
Scrapin’ up the concrete, S500 on them 22’s
Motorola phone when I’m dialin’ up my partner
Think I’m bein’ followed by a fed in an unmarked Impala
Skrilla squalla what I’m after, I get money hoe by any means
P-p-paper chasin’ everyday, I keep them rocks up in my cleats
Cut me with some scissors, you gon’ see how much I fuckin’ bleed
But I’ll come back with fuckin’ tanks and blow your shit to smithereens
Blick on me, click on me, G*59 the fuckin set
$UICIDE til’ death, I’ll yell it, pokin’ out my fuckin’ chest
Live from the 5 put the 0 behind the 4
Make a point before the numbers just to let you bitches know
I got five killers and they all down to fuckin’ ride
I can call on any of ’em if you down to fuckin’ die
Walk it how I talk it, bitch, and I ain’t got no fuckin’ lisp
Whisper my forbidden name and give my hand a fuckin’ kiss
O-o-out the mud, out the mist, Ruby take the form of shadows
Follow me back to the gates of hell, we regroup at the gallows
I can smell the scent of blood and I can smell the scent of piss
Leave your body rottin’, lock your soul up in the black abyss

Blick on me, click on me, G*59 the fuckin’ set
$UICIDE ’til death, I yell it, pokin’ out my fuckin’ chest
Blick on me, click on me, G*59 the fuckin’ set
No-No-No-Northside, Grey the gang, second world, eastern bloc
Northside, Grey the gang, second world, eastern bloc
$UICIDE ’til death, I yell it, pokin’ out my fuckin’ chest


Song: Hot Razor
Album: YIN YANG TAPES: Spring Season (1989-1990) (2023)
Music: Budd Dwyer & Sam Bo Bachrack
Lyrics: Scott Arceneaux Jr. & Aristos Petrou

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