Hotboii teams up with Polo G for WTF REMIX.

WTF Remix Lyrics (written by Hotboii & Polo G)

Intro
If it ain’t Z, it can’t be, dumb nigga
Y’all know what the fuck goin’ on
Big Z, 26, 13 season
LLWolph, fuck nigga
26, 13 shit, fuck nigga
We just watched him clockin’ in
Ahah
Z, Z, Z (Z, Z, Z, Z, Z)
Go

Chorus: Hotboii
Ayy, look me in my eyes, tell me
Have you ever witnessed M-one killings?
Ever spinned and doubled back because the clip wasn’t empty?
We don’t shoot at houses, we walk down, hop out vehicles
What the fuck, nigga?
Look me in my eyes
Just look me in my eyes and tell me that’s how this shit go
What you know ’bout movin’ your folks, so you can handle smoke?
Night owl with that Drac’, must be OVO
What the fuck, nigga?

Verse 1: Hotboii
Ain’t tryna find a job
It’s plenty of ways to get it, gotta get up, get out and grind
If it’s smoke in the city, better not work no nine to five
Pull up to your job and drive through, drive by, I got you, haha
Look me in my soul
You should probably see the devil, this the demon zone
Put that nigga in a wheelchair, he still holdin’ on
Next time I see that boy, I’ma grab his ass and roll him home
What the fuck, nigga?
And my wrist the sickest
The sun down, I’m on the E-way, all my diamonds glistenin’
I got a bad habit of treatin’ my glizzies like my women
Oil ’em up and make ’em pretty
Put her on some long extensions
Finger fuck, she go to spittin’

Chorus
Ayy, look me in my eyes, tell me
Have you ever witnessed M-one killings?
Ever spinned and doubled back because the clip wasn’t empty?
We don’t shoot at houses, we walk down, hop out vehicles
What the fuck, nigga?
Look me in my eyes
Just look me in my eyes and tell me that’s how this shit go
What you know ’bout movin’ your folks, so you can handle smoke?
Night owl with that Drac’, must be OVO
What the fuck, nigga?

Verse 2: Polo G
Look me in my eyes and tell me what you see
If I get that news that he survived, they goin’ back down that street, uh
Foenem slidin’ for weeks, we gon’ get back for B
He got burnt, got caught in that line of heat, he shouldn’t’ve tryna beef, bitch
Opps like tourist, pop out on my block just takin’ pictures
I don’t care if you keep your gun, lil’ boy, you ain’t no killer
Interrogations, I do drugs? No sir, I can’t remember
It’s a Hemi in this Scat, no, we can’t surrender
And my windows tinted, really put shit under
I got blood diamonds in my pendent
I got a feelin’ they’ll use my lyrics in my sentence
We pop out and play with switches
Anywhere them bitches get it
.40 Glock, my pistol kickin’