Alec Thompson - Hot Wigga (Remix) lyrics

[Verse: A-Game] A-G-A-M-E some hot wigga And like my city, spit sh** hot, wigga Let me bring it back though, 'cuz I'm not wigga Play the beat to my own drum, can't put me in a box, wigga I know Kung Fu, so I don't need to box, kidda Run up talking sh**, I might just drop kick 'em A-Game ain't trying to fight, he probably got some pot in 'em And he get super high, so yeah he got a lot with 'em Everyday I wake up, and get cake Hustle hard, man I gotta get my sh** straight Every beat I hop up on, I spit flames That's why these rappers looking at me like their sensei Like a write-up from my boss, a beat I rip it up I show no pity for a coward, I don't give a f** Suicide Silence, R.I.P. the homie Mitchell, bruh Still got your CD's and them posters with your signatures Damn, I really miss them old days Things change, sh**'ll come and go, but won't stay Round my way, you'd make a k**ing in the dope game Speaking of green, you know I'm fiending for that romaine Everytime I rap, I'm on that stupid sh** I be hanging in the studio, no noose and sh** These b**hes <3 me like some f**in' chocolate mousse & sh** But I don't show 'em love, I got a girl, you stupid b**h Mothaf**a, I know I lash out Hit up a stage and f**ing spaz like a crack child Was rapping for a minute, then I quit it, but I'm back now Y'all thought Unchained was dope? Man, that sh** was half-a**ed, pal Got one more tape and then Nsydious is droppin' next A-Game Murder Musik, P.T.B. should sign 'em next b**h, I'm so fly like F.G.E. one day, might cop a jet And I go hard boy, you'd think I Waka Flocka FLEX Y'all can't f** with me like promise rings, honestly I'm a f**ing boss I got 'em all in shock with my improvement, it's your f**ing loss If you ain't rocking with it, or bobbing with it, get f**ing lost When you hear how I'm spitting, your common sense is that I'm a star I'm flyer than a pigeon, I'm sh**tin' all on my competition b**h I'm going hard, and my flow is cold, so my bars are prison Rappers is suspicious, they thinking a ghost writer with 'em They just won't admit I got that fire like Ghost Rider, pimpin' Speaking of him, b**h I'm a rap until I'm skull and bone These rappers say they spit that real sh**, they just telling jokes They only in it for the women, money, cars, and clothes But just like stars, you ga**ed up, to me you hardly known No archaeologist, but sh** I got a bone to pick With all these rack wappers, thinking that they dope & sh** They ba** ackwards, I'll f** 'em up like good dope & sh** I R-O-F-L-M-A-O when they say that their flow is sick [Outro: A-Game] Hahahaha! It's A-Game mothaf**a