Artist: DMX
Album:  Flesh of My Flesh, Blood of My Blood
Song:   Heat
Typed by: LoccDout@aol.com
                
Uh yeah yeah 
(gunshots) 
Uh...grrrrrrrrr...uh...hot!
Uh..arf arf arf.. 
                
Chorus :
The heat is on Are y'all really ready to fly 
The heat is on Are y'all really ready to die 
The heat is oonnnnn 
Have your mother ready to cry 
The heat is on high
The heat is on, you know 
                
Verse one: 
The heat is on what's my next move 
Do I stick with the score, or get with the door 
Feds got the drop in the back of the Uhaul
Snipers on the roof chance of getting away too small 
Tell'em like this look, it's gonna be a shoot out
Whoever make it out meet back at the new house good luck
If I don't see you again peace 
Let's handle our business with these government police
You and you go out the front you take the back 
You cover the first two and I'll take the sack
Boomer didn't make it, neither did Stan 
Now it's three niggaz, splitin' four hundred grand (aight) 
We all feel the loss but enjoy the profit, 
The game is the same and nothin gonna stop it 
Most times you make it one time you won't 
All a nigga could really do is have a vest under the coat (come on) 
                
Chorus 2x 
                
Verse two: 
Me and my two mans gave money twenty grand 
For a scam they don't get the condo in the sand
And chances of gettin' caught slim next to none
Now we like three deep need that extra gun 
Bump into my man, I remember from up North 
I remember he had principles and wasn't nothin soft 
Off with disgust just was slow and dizzy 
Everybody got it aight let's get busy 
Run up in the bank bitch (woman screams)hit the deck 
Yo bust money,and get the keys off his neck (come here) 
We on the clock, three mintues until we finished 
Feds are on the way, but I'm tryin to see spinach 
In and out duffle bag across the back
Extra large sports coat to cover up the mack 
Feds they attack, I spit lead out niggaz spread out
Run up on a civilian in his car, made him get out 
                
Chorus 2x 
                
Verse three: 
High speed chasin, racin through the streets 
Death's in the air, I can taste it through the heat
My partner's goin' fast I don't think he's gonna last 
And if he don't, I'ma hit his wife with his half
But that's the type of nigga I am this ain't just rappin
I made it, he didn't but ain't shit happens
What can I do, but go on livin' 
Fleein' from the condo, I go on a ribbon 
Life goes on, that might sound wrong but heeyyy
We all live by the rules of the game we play 
Day to day, death is a possibility 
The way I play is a fist stops you from killin' me 
It's too hot to be in the heat cuz it's on 
Too hot to be in the streets so I'm gone
Go back to being discreet live long 
Til one day, either me or the heat is gone 
Come On!
                
Chorus 2x