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Puff Daddy
Roc Marciano
,
Stove God Cooks
Popularity ยท Low
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๐ฌ๐ง English ยท Original
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Lyrics
Original
Translation
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I wrote this shit up at my hoe spot
I came up with this sitting in my hoe spot
(We bust that pussy open, you don't know what that smell like)
We just had a thousand-trick summer, million-trick winter
I'm fresh up out my hoe spot
Puff Daddy with the twat, can't stop, won't stop
We the shit, come see if it stick
Swiss cheese, you live, you in your dream whip
The script, it was green lit
Split when the screams hit a fever pitch
I'm deep in this bitch, my sneakers is drenched
Been with Nina through thin and thick
The candle was lit at two different ends
I'm sick, I'm pouring medicine in my drink, it's pink
They say ignorance is bliss
That scene in the flick, I bit the steak, the maitre said it was fake
Through a signal that was sent through the brain
I'm pimping this game, that's word to Kunta Kinte's chains
The day I'm dating fades, lemonade
The yellow Range, lemon meringue
As for my nuts, I just let 'em hang like a set of drapes
Sip the Hennessy straight or maybe chase like some runaway slaves
I pray the train ain't running late, the gauge is my only running mate
My blade'll cut your face up just like some funnel cake
They left a bubble on your fade, that's a buck and some change
Blood rain from the jugular vein, flood the drain
For trying to kick mud on a brother name
I was hovering above the fray like a plane
Without a stain on my suede, I don't gangbang, I play the oven range
I'm insane, I'm stuck in my ways but our mothers claim we were saints
But we ain't
I'm covered in paint, I moved up in weight
You just a sitting duck in the lake
'Bout to get plug touched by the flame, supper was made
We ate, the plate gave us stomach pains and aches
But I have zero complaints in this Wraith, nigga
I wrote this shit up in the dope spot
(I wrote this shit sitting in the dope spot)
I came up with this sitting in the dope spot
(We bust the brick open, you don't know what that smell like)
We just had a twenty-brick summer, seven-body winter
I'm fresh up out the dope spot
Puff Daddy with the pot, can't stop, won't stop
Came over the stove hitting you with the baking soda like
Take that, take that, take that, take that
The rest is liars (them niggas lying)
Jump out the Maserati in the best attire
Your favorite rapper testify I'm extra fire
Money talk, your shit extra Tesla quiet
Spill champagne on my Gucci, ace his flexicising
You know it splash right off the leather
But it stick to the string like violin
I got a shooter with me and a shaman
We gon' take your soul and analyze it
Ask 'em how we had them Benzes on Berks Street
Lexis on State, nigga, that was the worst meet
My momma fucked El Chapo then birthed me
What's crumbs to a brick, boy, you playing with birdseed
Stove God, Aba of the pot
We just packed the Ariana Grande in the drop
My young boy Ramadan your block
Leave you holey if you make it, you won't eat shit for a month
Fuck a drought, fuck what day it is, my shit jump
I wrote this shit up in the dope spot
(I wrote this shit sitting in the dope spot)
I came up with this sitting in the dope spot
(We bust the brick open, you don't know what that smell like)
We just had a twenty-brick summer, seven-body winter
I'm fresh up out the dope spot
Puff Daddy with the pot, can't stop, won't stop
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