Lyrics: Bonner, Fyffe, Jones ...
Music: Erick Sermon/Gregory Webster/Marshall Jones/Leroy Bonner/Ralph Middlebrooks/Walter Morrison/Norman Napier/Tyrone Fyffe/Marvin Pierce/Andrew Noland
Intro：1000 degrees hot
Continuously, yeah
Who's that crazy mother****e
Drinkin crazy niggas out of crazy straw
Kicking crazy hardcore, crazy metaphors
When i rap competitions perform disappearing acts
Niggas ask why the squad be on it like that
Cause we stay with the lethal dosage
Click on the mic mc's run like roaches
Truthfully i think them mother****ers is gay
Always havin a party with no dj
I had to hold my head in di*******elief
Them short winded mother****ers tried to smoke the chie
Of the frontal leaf keith
Knowing damn well they can't win
My style is rougher than army gear and old timb
The east coast say ill
The west coast say ill
My squad is def they don't give a ****
They say kill
Cause we can all sing together
That's why i pack the black gat up under the leather
And keep it hot
Chorus: (3x)
It's 96 degrees in the shade
1000 degrees
I got shit like almond joy, like mounds you don't
I say and do a lot of things some fake rappers won't
Now i'm the show shocker plus the show stopper
Down with makin g's and all the block clockers
Down with l.o.d., the motherf -ing cop droppers
Down with def squad flying through your hood in choppers
Yeah we done been in more shit in the past year
Than the bloods and crips care to hear
Ear to ear, glock to hand, mic to mouth, resuscitation
Psychosomatic creation
Killing off the nation of perpetration
Player hating, bringin confrontation
I'll shoot your hips up and make you bogle like jamaicans
I'm doing my thing, if you feel me do your thing
Y'all niggas know my styl
I smoke niggas on trains and planes
Murderous material submerging from my brain
Cussin top dollar mother****ers into small chang
And make it hot
Chorus
I'm the un****witable incredible lyrical individua
Boy your not suitable
I work wonders over the beats
It's no wonder phony mc's pee the bed
Relax your head
Accomodations and compliments of the infrared
Theoretically, hypothetically, practically
Actually ain't nobody ****ing with me
I'll sell your stupid ass the brooklyn bridge
If you think an mc in your camp can ****ing with the kid
I want the sun not to *******ne for six months, to see who fronts
While the squad light up the sky with blunts
If you catch a nigger dreaming
Thinking he can **** with my enterpris
Wake him up, smack em, make him apologize
Cause we be on their lemonade type shit
I ain't no ****er but you derelicts can suck my dic
I make it hot
Chorus (2x)