Heated lyrics

Artist  : Trina 
Song : Heated



 Send "Heated" Ringtone to your Cell 

 2004 shit

You know the name

(Ahhhhhhh) Trina!

This is a world premiere

Trina, talk to 'em



[Chorus]

Pick it up

You don't wanna see me heated y’all (pick
it up)

You don't wanna see me heated y’all (pick
it up)

You don't wanna see me heated y’all (tell
me why girl)

Bitch I’ll fuck yo ass up

(Repeat 1x)



[Trina]

Bad bitch from the South keep shit locked

Any bitch run her mouth will get dropped

See me ride in the six, dropped

You ain't heard, my nookie so good it could
resurrect 'Pac

Trina ride on a track, never take a pit stop

You only on the radio cuz' you fucked a disc
jock

It’s Saturday, let the Cris pop

Me and Lil' Bre, Von Dutch, head to the
Flip-Flops

Hop out of the G-5 and on to the jet

You in that Nissan, that’s why you don't
get respect

Everywhere I go, I got cameras flashin'

You the preview, I’m the main
attraction

Yes ya man is watchin', you gettin' all mad

Ya' heart beat fast every time I walk past

My head real hard, but I got a soft ass

I play the sweet role

Don’t make me get off glass



[Chorus]



[Trina]

Shit can't stop, freaky BG’s, wit' da
matchin' tanktop

Tell me I ain't hot

If you think not lang hoe catch shots

This nigga thinkin' I’m sweatin' his Rolex
watch

You need more than that, to get in my thighs

A car that fly, maybe a house in the sky

I know you wanna beat it up right quick

And I was the first bitch Kobe cheated on his
wife wit'

Tight shit, Diamond Princess

Don’t be the first name on my hit list

Trust me, that’s not a good look

I’m a Vet, you a Rook, hoes better get
shook

Bitch, go and read a book

Find somethin' to slob

You workin' my nerves like a part time job

5 years in the game, still undefeated

We can do the damn thing, don't get me heated



[Chorus]



[Trina]

Miss Trina, ahead of the game

Act up, hoes better get ready for pain

No talk, I don't let 'em explain

Off the chain from that city in the South

Wit' or with are the same

Drunk niggas in the club, stay spittin' they
game

He wanna make sweet love

But I’d rather they brains

Better eat it 'til I can't walk straight

And if Chingy ever tried, he'll prolly talk
straight

I’m that bitch that you hate, gettin' paid
to rap

Busta forgot his rhymes when I made it clap

I’m the first girl to put Dade on the
map

I touch my toes, ya' man came in his lap

Hypno and Cris might have me fuckin' tonight

And if you can't feel this, you ain't touchin' it
right (shhhit)

I know Cali got my back

And when you turn it up

And hit the lights, bitch watch ya' back