Ca sĩ: Mims Album: Billboard Hot 100 Of 2007 (CD2)

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[Chorus]
This is why I'm hot
This is why I'm hot
This is why
This is why, uh
This is why I'm hot (uh)
This is why I'm hot
This is why I'm hot, woo
This is why
This is why
This is why I'm hot

I'm hot 'cause I'm fly (fly)
You ain't 'cause you're not (Mims)
This is why
This is why
This is why I'm hot
This is why I'm hot

This is why I'm hot
I don't gotta rap
I can sell a mill, sell you nothing on the track
I represent New York
I got it on my back
And they say that we lost it
So I'm a bring it back
I love the dirty, dirty
'Cause *****s show me love
The ladies start to bounce
As soon as I hit the club
But in the Midwest
They love to take it slow
So when I hit the H
I watch you get it on the floor
And if you needed hyphy
I take it to the bay
Frisco to Sac town
They do it e'ryday
Compton to Hollywood
As soon as I hit L.A.
I'm in that low, low
I do it the Cali way
And when I hit the Chi
People say that I'm fly
They like the way I dress, they like (they like my) my attire
Move crowds from side to side
They ask me how I do it, and simply I reply

[Chorus]

Thi s is why I'm hot
Catch me on the block
Every other day
Another *****, another drop
Sixteen bars, twenty-four pop
Forty-four songs, *****, gimme what you got
I'm in there driving cars
Push them off the lot
I'm into shutting stores down so I can shop
If you need a bird, I can get it chopped
Tell me what you need; you know I get 'em by the flock
I call my homey black; meet me on the ave
I hit Wash heights with the money in the bag
We into big spinners
See my pimping never dragged
Find me with different women that you *****s never had
For those who say they know me know I'm focused on my cream
Playa, you come between; you'd better focus on the beam
I keep it so feen the way you see me lean
And when I say I'm hot, my *****, this is what I mean

[Chorus]

This is why I'm hot
Shorty see the drop
Ask me what I paid, and I say, "yeah, I paid a quap"
And then I hit the switch that take away the top
So chicks around the way - they call me cream of the crop
They hop in the car
I tell them all about
We hit the studio; they say they like the way I record
I gave you black train, and I did you wrong
So every time I see them, and they tell me that's their song
They say I'm the bomb
They love the way the charm hanging from the neck
And compliments the arm which compliments the ear, then comes the gear
So when I hit the room, the shorties stop and stare
Then *****s start to hate, rearrange their face
Little do they know I keep them things by waist side
I reply, "nobody gotta die"
Similar to Lil' Wiz 'cause I got the fire