Fes Taylor 2 Hot 2 Touch
[Chorus x2: Lon Dini]
Too hot to touch, who f..cking with Tuffs, now none
Represent the Nilla for realer, make all you cowards run
[Lon Dini:]
I'm so on fire, my mouth make, mic wires melt
I'm gone, for broke, floating in the zone by myself
Master my music, now I'm bout to lock and abuse it
Spill so fluent, people probably ask how I do it
Say the drug game, pieces in living port, help me sure it raw
On top of that, my pen keep it funky like sewers are
You don't want none, have hardware pointed at your loved one
Pull it and I'm using it, Tufflon, exclusive shit
Only slide bangers for gangsters, that was cool and shit
Cowards on me can flip, this Smith leave your spirits wet
Taught in the jungle, be quiet but move militant...
[Chorus x4]
[Lon Dini:]
I bench press and back break, cut and decapitate
My vocals like lead flying clutch iron you die in a duel of death
I get murdered, the Nilz is in my soul rec'
Fly as the posses of old west, respected like old vet
Violate fam, I murder whole sets
Synthethic thump, run and throw darts and out bomb this
Section is large, til you put your hands on me, cause
Now the medics might not reach ya, maggots all eat ya
Under the earth, you try to bust me, I let it bang first
[Chorus x4]
[Lon Dini:]
Like damn, Tuff, why you put it down so violent
It's like I rep for my whole f..cking project, that was forgotten
It ain't nothing I got on my pop it and lock it and load
The lion's awoke, leading the Jungle, going for throats
The general spoke, escape with a cloak and dagger, drunker stagger
Only thing left on concrete was brain matter
Your dream shattered, my team plot ladder like painters
Not a soul in the projects heard your voice when we stained ya
[Chorus x4]
