Hot Wings cover
Hot Wings

Hot Wings

2 Chainz

Lyrics

(Hit-Boy)

I'm the big homie now

Don't forget that, I'm the big homie now

I got my spunk, Louie Vuitton

Truck in the front, what're you doin'?

I look so good, don't call me up

She wanna suck, it's in a Buick

I pull it up, they wanna fuck

We gon' get high, what're we doing?

I got some Perc, I got a Crown

I got a crib, they gon' get to it

I got a semi, I got a Draco

Protect my family, straight outta ClayCo

Thought I was sweet, just like a Faygo

But I had killers all on my payroll

Watch how I move, just like it Rayon

64 Chainz, just like a Crayon

I bought a hat, one with a A on it

Put on my dick, told her to stay on

I had a paper tag on three of 'em

I had the top dropped with the friends

I told 'em, "Deuce one, like Deion"

I say, "Deuce one, like Deion"

I go Bruce Wayne on you peons (peons)

Shit, I fuck with the Falcons, true (True)

Had more sacks than a lineman

I should got a Heisman too, nigga, ha

Shit, where they hikin' at? Hike

Check like a Nike hat, yup

I got the Midas pack, uh

Told the bih, "Quiet, relax," uh

I got my ho on the other line

I'm not bipolar, but borderline

I just might switch lanes, drop her off

Go back, get fried

That's all she want, hot wings

Bitches fuckin' for some hot wings

Bitches fuckin' for American deli

Bitches fuckin' for some eye cream

She just want her twenty piece

All flesh with the lemon pepper

I was the first one to put her in the first class

Bitch, get your shit together

Bitch ain't never flown before

Been try to come through security with some tennis shoes on, ho

Take the shit off, bitch

Real big, big boss music (boss music)

Big boss music, big boss, big, big boss music (boss)

That big boss music, big, big, big, big boss music, uh

That big boss music, big, big, big, big boss music (boss, boss)

Big boss music

Big, big, big boss music (boss, boss)

Big boss music

Big, big, big boss music (boss, boss)

Big boss music

You better get used to it

Ain't no falling off, niggas goin' straight up

You better get used to it

I need a raise, I ain't taking paycuts

You better get used to it

Hundred for a verse, hundred for a show

You better get used to it

Everytin' a mill' on the low

I'm all 'bout the bag

No need to brag (brag)

Ring cost a Jag' (Jag')

Dreads to the back like a shag (shag)

Smoke you like SIG in the mag

I'm all over there (there)

They callin' me Flair

They callin' me DiBiase

My girl ballin', Taurasi

2 Chainz, time Versaci

They don't sell 'em in Foot Locker

Curve game on BluBlocker

Southside with a F

F stand for a few options

Dealership, I don't do auctions

Fuck clothes, I need a new closet

My new watch is moonwalkin'

This somethin' she don't do often

Bitch ain't never flown before

Been try to come through security with some tennis shoes on, ho

Take the shit off, bitch

Real big, big boss music (yeah)

Big boss music, big boss, big, big boss music (I'm the big homie now)

That big boss music, big, big, big, big boss music (I'm the big homie)

That big boss music, big, big, big, big boss music (boss, boss)

Big boss music

Big, big, big boss music (big, big) (boss, boss)

Big boss music

Big, big, big boss music (boss, boss)

Big boss music (I'm the big homie now, yeah)

I'm the big homie now, yeah

I'm the big homie now

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