Lyrics:
but you're still a prisoner
Cause I cook shrimps as if I was Sizzler
Here is the movement, work for improvement
Join hand in hand, back
all the hurt back I'd find a way
I guess I'll pop another pill so I can sleep
And let my brains cook
Like I put my head inside a microwave
Yeah, now I
bitchin"
Understand this homeboy, I'm not snitchin
Killa Cam still be back in the hood
Back where I should, plus I can't act that good
I could cook that
record I got my advance
So take a hike, jack
If you're bumpin' this in the kitchen, just cook
If you're watchin' us do it live, listen and look
If
down like Booker; never fall in love with a hooker
or cracked out broads that smoke cook-up
Could be she fine now well off and she a looker
and know how
it
I'm hot like the peppers that Puerto Ricans cook with
trick up the sleeve
y'all thieves that never took shit
real bad actors
try to operate and get
delectable, especially the small ones.
No time to cook em in a skillet.
My belly's rumblin', I got a need to fill it.
I don't fry em, the heat will only
ave
Machos mothefucker
Hook
{Journalist}
See yo, I studied the block, so I got damn good methods
On how to burn strips like I can cook breakfast
You
bedsit land
My only home
I think it's time to cook a meal
To fill the emptiness I feel
Spend my money going out
I've nothing in I'm left without
And I'll get Laura Mae to cook us some barbecue (you know, they good)'
The cotton was high and the corn was growin' fine (yes it was)
But that was another
Possessing my brain
This life
Full of money bitches weed and riches
Kansas City niggas grind it
Cook it up in the kitchen
Pay attention to the corner
on, the Rap Capone here to cook it
I'm a villain that's killin, livin a lifestyle that's crooked
Before I starve, I'm a steal
Before I die, I'm a kill
you want to get married and cook somebody dinner?
Said you're making fun of me ‘cause I'm young and got no money
I've got no time for school books
gave me the sticky
Now I am hungry but please don't bother
You don't have to cook because you are my lunch
Maybe the flesh is a little stingy
It
brethren hear
Sell I a pound of dat t'ing there
So when the butcher pull up a stool
Begin fi question Ozzy how him so fool
What kind a sump'in cook in
my cup of tea
So don't talk trash to me
How can you step up to me
And tell me how to look
Trying to tell me how to dress
Or even how to cook
Used to know a girl lived down there
And she'd go out in the evenings and pick her a mess of it
Carry it home and cook it for supper
'Cause thats
and then I built the best.
I built myself a fine machine-
She does more than cook and clean.
I know you'd be impressed with my baby, my lady
My Swiss Army
an imagination this was took, a mental crook
Stirring this up like a chef or cook
I hear them say give me the recipe
Breakin this off in the fashion of an erection
split your tummy
Puncture your kidney and make you piss bloody
So now I leave your body to rot
Where bitches sell they pussy for rock
Cook they coke in
used to rule
recess is over lets go back to school
(chorus)
goin back to school like Rodney Dangerfield
to the lunchroom where the cooks arrange a meal
To determined to stop, I cook and simmer the pot
Just give me space when I shuttle, count it down to the top
This that Kill Bill shit
Drank and Bottled Up
it's a cook here
Think it's a jux here, don't even look here, nigga (don't even, don't even look here)
Where I'm from, it ain't been a good year
Seen
do it like this
Watch me cook with the flick of the wrist
It's a hit or a miss when I drive this bitch home
I'm gone, I hope you feel in your soul
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