Temp. Lyrics

Bitch I'm on top of the hill

Don't need a pill just for me to be chill

I ain't with Buffalo but I got bills

Mixing components to show em the skill

This ain't no fiction go show em it's real

Keep it on point like the tip of a drill

Checking my temperature it do not matter

I know that I'm hot and I know I'm the illest

Try to fuck with me and your milk gets spilled

Make a new wave the game rebuilt

Living this life my life surreal

Identity must be concealed

Got this drip and I feel charged up same thing as a motherfucking eel

Favorite gun from Call of Duty back in the day was a Galil

I'm taking their place they dried like up raisins keep going up to the top

I'm hitting a pitch so no it don't miss

Treat every throw like a lob

They wanna sleep till I make em see

My life on a fucking montage

Chilling in Florida, and I'm round gators

Boutta go get Lacoste

Yeah, that something light

yeah, that something light

yeah, that something light

Reaching new heights

Bitch I'm on top of the hill

Don't need a pill just for me to be chill

I ain't with Buffalo but I got bills

Mixing components to show em the skill

This ain't no fiction show em it's real

Keep it on point like the tip of a drill

Checking my temperature it do not matter

I know that I'm hot and I know I'm the illest

Like what I feeling

Feeling like my head a propeller man that shit really spinning

Cooking shit with no apron it is greatness they witness

She thought I staring at her chest I was staring at her lip stick

Back in the day had a razor scooter I ain't ever have a rip stick

Some days I was feeling like a saint than another day a misfit

Either way I spreading my ways outside my district

And I'm in my own class a different class now this class dismissed