Lyrics:
nuts
Motion picture living unscripted, no plans, no cuts
Raw footage of my life in small percentages
Spoon feed them cook it up just right it becomes
more juice than Sunny Delight
I'll be your plumber, give you pipe
See, she make me think I can sing, make me forget that I rap
She cook me breakfast
la bitch qui cook j'suis pas cuistot
J'suis dans la zone même sans rien je penserai toujours à Dino
Si on a les crocs c'est que la vie ne nous fait
treatment
Then I hit you
Like "Bae I miss you"
Pull up grind that issue
Make up sex official
Talk about it while we cook a meal
Look at God, He must
We cook dope in the microwave
GMG, Slaughter Gang
Gotta keep the choppa by the door
Fourty in the sofa, I've been whippin' soda
Plug came in with
is just one thing
That I've never understood
Girls are learning to twerk, but don't know how to cook
Pot noodles on the weekend, everyday beans
hydro-codon
Cook so clean though
I could put your soul on
I need your C note
Valentino
Sip that 'Bino
Black Tuxido
Table for two
James Bond
[?]
(r. cook/r. greenway/b. backer/b. davis)
I'd like to build the world a home
And furnish it with love
Grow apple trees and honey bees
And snow-white
Ming's behind'cha
Don't remind me, do whatever to you, fly back and there'd be
Hell on earth for you to find me
They say we all look alike, cook alike
But
thang
Quick to cook and breakin' cane
Straight runnin' thangs around the way
Havin' his money man
A rider from the hood understood by many sets
With
You've got a good heart
You're so good to me
That's more than a good start
You're too good for me
I would even have you live with me
Cook for me
niggaz can't see me
Fuck it, buy the coke
Cook the coke, cut it
Know the bitch 'fore you caught yourself lovin' it
Nigga with a Benz fuckin it
Doesn't
station
She worked as a cook there for a long, long time
She said, "hey, Cowboy" later on she said
"Nice boy, good worker, top rider, lucky one, that
[Chorus]
My old heart it's been 13 hours too much of you my friend my dear and now I cower
Looking at you looking at you oh shit shit I'll go cook
I wanna look out for you, do all the things she can't
No, do she wash your clothes?
No, do she cook and clean for you, baby?
Oh no, she don't
Hurricane it don't really matta hold me down,
And that ain't wat you doin so you need to move around.
I need somebody that's gon cook for me, fix my plate
the corrupt official for A and B he be the man in the middle
Or D for discoverer for Cook and Columbus and the pirate plunderers
Doesn't mean I ain't gonna
He rakes and trims the grass
He loves to mow and weed
I cook like Betty Crocker
And I look like Donna Reed
There's plastic on the furniture
Do you get what you want?
Do you get what you need?
Your mamma buys you drugs and makes you homade speed
You need homemade speed
She cooks it
go
My brain pattern skip a jiggawatt
No more room in the pan I cook up rhymes in a bigger pot
On a roll, what you figure got
Tricks up my sleeve you
12 years old we cook that coke, baby face, whip a pill, grip the steel
Damn ain't this a bitch, ain't no motherfucking fathers
Put the message out,
Sugar, stocks and shares
Gourmet food and drink
Up a marble flight of stairs
Suntans and shades
A yacht anchored in Saint Tropez
Butler, cook
And my man Ras G, hey
If he cook a rock, serve a melody
Ey yo oh, gotta keep movin'
And groovin' for life, for life
Ey yo oh, this type of music
like sprinkles
Iron in my pants like I'm getting out the wrinkles
Take a nigga out and I ain't talking 'bout a date
Cook a nigga like a steak and fix
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