Hotter Than Hell Lyrics

Jesse Dyen

Non-album songs

Lyrics to Hotter Than Hell
Hotter Than Hell Video:
You thank God when the N or the R downtown come

Deep down in the hole, dolla fifty and then some

Got your boys talking shop, working round the clock

Never stop staring at that crop-top

Damn, do I need a vacation



Half a gaggle of your gumshoe crew off-duty

All hail to the one with the snakeskin booty

I'm feeling like I wanna die-o on the Bayou, they say

But hey is that a girl or a guy, oh

Nice try, no, I can't decide

Tired ride, why I'm sweating horrified



It's hotter than hell, brother can't you tell

That it's dripping through your nose

Dirty clothes, in the bowels of Manhattan

It's hotter than hell



There's something buzzing way up high near the billboard sign

And then a fine pair of Brooklyn-bound shoes jumps aboard just in time

I'm begging please, sister please, won't you look me square in the eye

Can't you see I'm acting civilized, bonafide



It's hotter than hell, sister can't you tell

That it's dripping through your nose

Dirty clothes, in the bowels of Manhattan

It's hotter than hell



Watching everybody's faces change

Assimilate that air-conditioning

Imagine that, catching flatfoot summer pneumonia

Eyeballs look away as they're coming up on you

They come upon



It's hotter than hell, brother can't you tell

That it's dripping through your nose

Dirty clothes, in the bowels of Manhattan

It's hotter than hell
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