Who Styled Ya
From now on let’s just keep everything
Yup
Spitta
Welcome To The Winner’s Circle nigga
Thou shall not front on real sh*t
Or he’ll face a thousand deaths from this the spit vicious
I go hard like concrete floors
Make b**ches legs open like Lambo doors
Up, out
Nigga rich the first season BBC, I’m Mr. Chow
My ghetto chick ordering food she can’t pronounce
Uh
Eat in mama, let it stick to your ribs
But no pics, tell your friends ’bout the sh*t that we did
Cause I can’t have no evidence of me hanging with other chicks
Floating around, wify trying to fight me on some Springer sh*t
Its Curren$y or you can call me Mr. Clean kicks
My day job consists of business first
The video games, bong hits, and pulling skirts
Vacationing, month long trips, scamper the earth
I’m trying to find what N.E.R.D. was in search of
Was it love?
Not sure
But I know that your man Hot Spitta
Ain’t one of those niggas who
Don’t know how to dress so they swagger jack Jigga
Wait to see him on stage with it
Then they internet shopping till they get it
Huh
I saw the same thing happen to me
Niggas laughed at my steez, now they’re wearing DCs
Fashion misfits, I’m fashion gifted
You niggas Boo-boo, find Yogi, crash a picnic
Spitta
Yeah
