Lyrics:
with America's #1 DJ, Funkmaster Flex
In collaboration with America's, pardon me, #1 independent rap label, Dipset
And right now I'm accompanied by
I watched him throw his oatmeal bowl
Halfway across the kitchen floor
His mamma said don't let me see you do that anymore
And he let loose with
This my time outta the shell
Give no fucks like a new Fendi belt
Fuck love I knew you was hell
Now we shooting with devils and hell
My new bitch need
She stay home alone watching DVD’s
Said she git her own but she feelin me
Used to think the kitchen where she’s supposed to be
But she know better
been swervin all night and
You gon stay by me
Skrrt, I just pull up in the Bentley
I used to stay in the kitchen
Mow I'm in Cali with shippin
Pull up
Always check the door before you lay down
Keep a glass of water by the bed
A dose of local honey will keep your nose from runnin'
Little things
the fuck would you do if you was in my position?
Found out your sisters been Beaten into submission
By her own boyfriend on the floor of her own kitchen
The dilsnick it will hit her ex pills
I can feel nigga best deals
You can get the steal
If you ill I'm concealed with a
Technina millameter by my side
God
on the cement floor
And closed the door behind me
I came back into the house through the Dungeon
From another door into the kitchen
And said, "This is not how
the kitchen put the kettles down
Stop from fillin all you hoes
Give up the life of trues and vogues
Hell no, it ain't gon' happen, this shit too deep
So I
listen
Mama on drugs, gettin' high up in the kitchen
Bringin' home men at different hours of the night
Startin' with some laughs, usually endin' in
From the trap to my blood to my nation
New level nigga and I'm
Climbing up the ranks
I been cheffing in da kitchen
I'ma leave you with the plates
Fuck
I feel it's my time
(My time) (My time)
My time, my time
And some of my brothers went home
Heaven or hell
And some of my brothers went home kudos
universe
Far from you average rappers
Nothing is by the book
Welcome to Hell's Kitchen
Show you just how to cook
The city is full of bishops
Putting pressure
Eternally Thug Nigga Hilfigger made by Tommy
So when I speak hope to reach my ??? Mamis
Or come to Papi I love it when its wet and sloppy
In
hell's kitchen, ugh
And I'm so, I'm so hot, hot, ya'll burnin' up, HOT
I step in, it's like the wedding between Hope and Armaggedon
The Hip Hop Moses
Now we wrestlin' in the kitchen, "How the hell you get so strong?"
She pull addresses out the cabinet, all the knives fell on the floor, whoa
I drive
pissin'
Long as people know they don't know what they're missin'
Livin' in the kitchen
Or just crying in the shower
Self-care or self-empowered
I don't know
Yeah yeah yeah
Whoa whoa whoa
Yuh yuh yuh
These bitches playing dirty told 'em meet me at the body shop
They caught me in the kitchen now we busy
My bitch don't rock no Vicky secret, she want new Bottega
And I can't trip out on no bitch, I keep shit two-player
I'm on this mission by myself,
millameter by my side
God used to guide me Lucifer beside me
Evil was lively trippin' with wifey
Never was treatin' her nicely
What this music got me into
This
until the sun goes down
Sex by a palm tree that's a coconut, the titties on that mami look like coconuts aye
She broke as hell but sexy and don't waste
Five-o-clock, and the workday's done. Headin' home to my kitchen.
Five-o-clock, and the workday's done. Soon he'll be out a pickin'.
When the sun goes down,
on a bad day
Your favorite rapper never had lle'
Let alone traffic state to state
I Sat in that kitchen and scraped the plate
Cooked dope while auntie sang
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