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Think About It
Guè, Cookin Soul & Freddie Gibbs
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🇬🇧 English · Original
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Check, check (How you feelin'?)
Whippin' candy, yo
Ayo, think about your kids when you fuckin' with me, ah
Go some more
Milano, bitch
Check, check, ah
You better think about your kids when you fuckin' with me, uh
Think about it (Think about it)
Fuck nigga, yeah
Cookin' Soul
Slime
Let me get back on my shit, I been
Drinkin' and druggin' excessively (yeah)
Got her snortin' that shit at the Beverly, fuck is you tellin' me?
I gotta get up and jump on the 8 a.m. flight
I been fuckin' all night, I can't fuck up this cheddar, G (nah)
Lifestyles of the insane, let the shit get the best of me
Devil be testin' me, but the Father keep blessin' me
Pussy shit ain't in my pedigree, haters gon' heckle me
Think they filled up with estrogen, I could
Just pull up they messages (oh, really?)
Boy, you friendly as a box of puppies
With that chopper to your dome (bitch)
Make a fuck nigga call up his kids
Tell 'em he ain't never comin' home
Deadbeat, Cookin' Soul, he was dead meat
European hoes, Game of Thrones, I should
Keep these bitches in the Red Keep
Went electric on the Benz Jeep, old school, got a 450
Baby mama, she was trippin' on a nigga fashion week
'Cause every picture, man, I had some hoes with me (bitch)
And some good grade A blow with me (yeah)
Brought the snot box 'cross the globe with me
I could kill a nigga when the show's ending
But it's funny you ain't doin' shows, nigga (yeah)
Cookin' Soul, he was dead meat
Call his children up, I turned his daddy to a deadbeat
Fuckin' European bitches in the castle, keep a ho up at the Red Keep
Fuck nigga
You know what I'm sayin'? Like, like
Some of them Game of Thrones niggas
Pimp shit
She's smokin' whole, throwin' O's in the place to be
Cookin' Soul, he was dead meat
Yeah (cookin' Soul)
She's doin' drugs with the thugs in the place to be
Siamo a Montesanto, dite a ma' di preparare dei nigiri coi ricci
Think about it
Ah-huh, wow
Ah, ah
Hittavo un'attrice di L.A. allo château Marmont (wow)
Alla festa non sento la bocca, coca, ero diventato di marmo
Il Cola era super ghiacciato come se
Fosse un gennaio a Malmö, for real
Cento K sul mio palmo e, bitch, credici
Eravamo io, Marco e due colombiani, ma in una barca da sedici (ahah)
Lui e Tata in cabina prima che salpassimo e io ho fatto tredici (uoh)
Abbiamo pagato quel conto del Nobu
Soltanto con guadagni illeciti (seh)
Scemo, ti mando in deficit (okay)
Aereo privato, citation, ero con la campionessa olimpionica
Stavo in completo Brioni, la bitch è bionica (eheh)
Se una tipa non chiava con G, la tipa è lesbionica (ah-ah)
Dopo due giorni di sexting (what?)
Prendi il mio amore sul prendisole di un Pershing, yo
Pensa che hai dei figli, no, don't fuck with me
Se abbassiamo I finestrini del mio truck, oh, shit
Non vedo perché sposarmi, never trust a bitch
Spendo a Shoreditch, bella Freddie Gibbs
Atterro a Tirana, mi viene a prendere
Un Benz direttamente in pista, levels
She's smokin' whole, throwin' O's in the place to be
Cookin' Soul, he was dead meat
Yeah (cookin' Soul)
She's doin' drugs with the thugs in the place to be (yeah)
With the king of R&B
The future (future)
Pick it up, bitch, yeah
Think about it