Warm It Up, K.A.A.N. ft. DJ Hoppa Lyrics

We had to do it

Whoa!

Oh yeah, we live

Back on the scene, crispy and clean

Back, back, back—back on the scene, crispy and clean

Back, back, back—back on the scene, crispy and clean

I'm regime supreme, a solid team, I live the dream

Keep it going till the day that my heart stops

Flowing like we're swimming with predators in the swamp

Spitting like all of my predecessors, it's hip hop

Steel sharpening steel; either you build or you get swapped out

I'm staying in the gym, working on my pen

Again and again, I've got a habit—I habitually win

The city of sin; if you're weak, then you will get trimmed

The citizens, they gotta eat—it's a feast for them

You need some backup; don't make me act up

Checking the status of my stature

Collecting these rappers like it's the rapture

The lyrical matter is my DNA; call it data

The main attractor, disaster, the bigger factor

My flows are fatter

You know we're climbing up the ladder

Leave 'em with a pissy bladder, the poetic mad hatter

The bastard that gets badder

The rhyme schemes are tattered

Left the microphone shattered

And the metronome scattered

Warm it up, K.A.A.N., warm it up, K.A.A.N.,

Warm it up, K.A.A.N., warm it up, K.A.A.N.,

Warm it up, K.A.A.N., warm it up, K.A.A.N.,

Warm it up, K.A.A.N., warm it up

Back on the scene, crispy and clean

Back, back, back—back on the scene, crispy and clean

Back, back, back—back on the scene, crispy and clean

I'm regime supreme, a solid team, I live the dream

We're still out on a roll

We're still rocking these shows

We're still flipping these flows

We're still ducking these clones

We're still stacking this dough

We're still staying composed

'Cause either way that it goes

I think we're about to explode

Taking the path these motherfuckers never traveled

We shuffle the gravel

Keep it moving forward, never lateral, collateral

The damage I manage make

With every step that I take

Lyrically resuscitate

If a nigga detonate

Blowing the building to smithereens

Obscene

What you mean

All of my sixteen are pristine

Too clean

I'm deemed as something unseen

Unheard, observe, my words are too keen

This a dropkick; when the drop hits, you lean

This a top pick; when I talk shit, they fiend

Got 'em cautious, never cross this

Young king

Now you're nauseous from the nonsense

Not me