Lyrics:
well
I’ll make another in my kitchen boy I run a song dealing cartel
Storm is over I made it through the hurricane
Self-medicated alcohol, herb, cocaine
change
Knowing I'm staying the same
My shooters gonna shoot up the range
Know that we shooting with range
I'm playing with fire Lui Kane
All of my niggas
I hop out the range, left that bitch running
Why these niggas lying like they really came from nothing
But there's too many niggas out here, hey,
Zero zero
See you with him and I'm losing it
I'm in that whip, I go insane
She lose her top, I lose my brain
Jump in the skat, hop in a Range
I'm
a range
Like
Am fighting all my demons
I was guided by the
Nine milly
Nine milly
You know
You know
Ride
Ride
Ride from my section
Did I forget
Did I forget
in The kitchen, got your bitch stuck up on
My wrist cause that shit glisten
You ain't a shooter cause you ain't got range, y'all Hit it up a civic
but the shawty can't stand me
When it come to the racks, y'all niggas can't manage
Gotta hit em close range, man, that bitch do damage
She cut them
had walls and windows too.
But my life is outside, under open skies.
I am a free range man.
I couldn't settle down. I couldn't live the normal life.
We is not the same
The-the car and the gun is the same, cause it got range
I been fappin' since a youngster
You'll die reachin' for my chain
Swerve
now I just need myself & a blunt in a Range Rover
Windows down
Buck you
Spin it with my left
Hit the gas with the kreps
Triple threat
Please don't
as well buy all the lotion
Don't hit my line talking love shit
When you posing knowing I'm chosen
Take the big shots I ain't frozen
Mid-Range Kobe
can holler if you want to pleeease
I ain't runnin' with no punk crew beeee
Anemies and my range is on
Tou're in the danger zone
My fuckin' game is
the game
You know ta give me brains
Til you make your boy range
Oh try ta luv tha - Boy
You gotta suck ya boy
Get a Mack not a man baby, ya understand baby
swords
Jack off Jimmy, everybody wants more
Scully and angel on the kitchen floor
And I'm calling Buddy on the ouija board
I've been thinking 'bout
on stupid, I gotta keep it moving
Niggas make the same shit, me I make the blueprint
Came in the Range, Hopped out the Lexus
Every year since, I've been
up
Fuck the city up
Fuck the city up one time
Fresh out the bed getting head in a Range Rove
All about that bread, rubberbands on my bankroll
get your cheese up
Dope man bitch!
Call me Mr.Re-Up
The kitchen smells like fish, the fish scale dog
1000 Grams at a time on the Digiscale ow!
.45
If my kids hungry, snatch the dishes out ya kitchen
I'll be wylin' til they pick me outta line up
We keep the nines tucked, chopped dimes up, rap
waits for no religion whether Catholic or Christian (ah)
Listen, I went through mama bitching in and out the kitchen
With probable cause, it's probably
on stupid, I gotta keep it moving
Niggas make the same shit, me I make the blueprint
Came in the Range, Hopped out the Lexus
Every year since, I've been
and your the team captain
Quaterbackin', Quarterbackin'
Gotta little change and ya drivin' a range
Quarterbackin', Quarterbackin'
If ya sound system
pellets all over the place
Bodies all in the kitchen, all on the staircase
BACK THAT UP!
1- [Celly Cel]
Why must I be like that?
Why must I keep
I might pull up and just skrrr
If Gucci Mane was in my kitchen he'll say "burr"
Racks in my pocket, darling well durrr
I'ma spend a thousand
Yeah, yeah, yeah..
"Hit 'em at point blank range and watch em radiate" -> Rakim
A wicked combination with my dangerous mindstate
"Hit 'em at point blank
Discuss these kitchen range Lyrics with the community:
Report Comment
We're doing our best to make sure our content is useful, accurate and safe.
If by any chance you spot an inappropriate comment while navigating through our website please use this form to let us know, and we'll take care of it shortly.
Attachment
You need to be logged in to favorite.
Log In