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Mobb Deep, Crystal Johnson - Temperature's Rising (LP Version)

Temperature's Rising
Mobb Deep, Crystal Johnson
05:00
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Song lyrics

[Verse 1: Havoc]
Word up, son, I heard they got you on the run
For a body, now it's time to stash the guns,
They probably got the phones tapped so I won't speak long,
Gimme a hot second, and I'ma put you on.
It's all messed up, somebody snitchin' on the crew,
And word is on the street is they got pictures of you,
Homicide came to the crib last night, six deep,
Askin' on your whereabouts and where d'you sleep,
They said they just wanna question you, but me and you know
That once they catch you, all they do is just arrest you,
Then arraign you, hang you, I don't think so,
It's a good thing you bounced, for now just stay low.
Once in a blue I check to see how you're doin',
I know you need loot, so I send it through Western Union,
They probably knock down the door
In the middle of the night, sometimes around four
Hopin' to find who they lookin' for but they won't succeed,
All they gonna find is mad empty bags of weed.
But, word, son, you got the projects hotter than hell,
Harder for brothers to get they thug on but oh, well,
Son, they know too much, even the hoodrat chicks,
“Oh, you heard who did what?” No, I don't know who did shit!
So stop askin', then I know I'm not goin' crazy,
From windows I see lights flashin' and maybe
Somebody's takin' pictures, you know who that be –
Police lovers, and neighborhood snitches,
They put up your sheet so everybody's pointin' fingers
And lyin', ayo, son, the temp is risin'

[Chorus: Crystal Johnson]
The temperature's rising, no, there's nothing surprising,
The temperature's rising, huh, and ain't nothing surprising,
The temperature's rising, huh, and ain't nothing surprising,
The temperature's rising, there's nothing surprising.

[Verse 2: Prodigy]
What up, Black? Hold your head wherever you at,
On the flow from the cops with wings on your back,
That snitch nigga gave police your location,
We'll chop his body up in six degrees of separation.
Killa, listen, shit ain't the same without you at home,
Phony niggas walk around tryna be your clone,
They really fear you, when you was at home, they was pale,
That's why they wanna see you either dead or in jail.
By the time you hear this rhyme you'll probably be locked up,
Tried to hide somewhere along the lines, your plans slipped up,
Got caught up in a crime that you can't take back,
Reminisce on how I used to pick you up in the Ac'.
Years ago when we was younger seemed the hood took us under very deep,
Wonderin' who snitched it got me losin' lots of sleep
At night, you know my mouth is tight,
I never sang to the cops ‘cause that shit ain't right.
Sometimes I stroll past the scene of the crime and backtrack,
Damn, why the situation go down like that?
It'll be a long time before the heat dies down,
And a couple of years 'fore we see you around,
Butt till then maintain and keep your story the same,
The cops is grabbin' wrong niggas, lookin' for someone to blame.
They harrassin', strugglin' to find the truth,
There's a chance ya case'll get thrown out, ‘cause they ain't got no proof
To say you're guilty, your fingerprints filthy,
Deliver me the gun, I'll tie it to a brick and throw it in the river,
Make sure it sinks to the bottom,
Outsmart police, snuck you out the projects, we got 'em,
But still, but still, but still...

[Chorus: Crystal Johnson]
The temperature's rising, no, there's nothing surprising,
The temperature's rising, huh, and ain't nothing surprising,
The temperature's rising, huh, and ain't nothing surprising,
The temperature's rising, there's nothing surprising.

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