Cook Up
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Lyrics
Me Fux, yup!
Right back at it man, pray for the evil 2
Yo Ev let's go!
Lord Thought!
All this crazy shit got me working on my aim
Bro I'm ready for the storm, I'm just waiting on the rain
Try to smoke away my pain, my lungs on fleek
Hate, but I'm made, my gun's on me
Music in my laptop, shooters in the trap spot
Stupid we can do it, no computer hit the back block
There's power in these horns, and thunder in the drums
Jungle nigga vibes, I'm coming from the slums
My wrist get a trophy, none of them bitch niggas know me
For the bread and the butter I'mma swiss cheese your robi
For this bread I'mma swiss cheese your motherfucking robi
80 On deck, and wild other blickeries
Just copped me some shit that'll flip a whole V
Make my own history, shaking off misery
Say my Lord quiet, but wait 'til his pistol speak
My dogs on attack, send some 4's at your hat
When you drop, we gon' hit you with some more, that's a fact
I be staying on my side Lord, fuck what niggas saying
Youngin' bill so high, Trump couldn't even pay it
Man fuck that clown nigga, but
Shorty bill so high, nigga Trump couldn't pay it
My Lord flee, me
Put the cheddar together so we could double the ozs
I miss P
Out of pocket, I don't speak
Peep
I'm coming out of pocket if my homies don't eat
My getaway clean car is waiting
Get the money like I'm fiending for the information
I'm a wishing well of inspiration, major
The minors need for me to fix the situation
Picture perfect, I throw the heat if they deserve it
If not I curve it, it's a cold world, shit ain't perfect
They need an angle I'mma work it
Even if it's murder, not guilty like they read the verdict
I'm painting
Above the rim how I leave em hanging
Banging
My sin city don't believe in angels
I'm getting out what I sing inside
All fire like they filing in a single line