Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Cooking, artist - DeNaUn. Date of issue: 04.05.2015
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Cooking |
| Yup, yup, yeah, yeah yeah, yeah! |
| I-I-I showed ya how to stunt (Yeah!), I turned you into a pimp (Yeah!?) |
| My whole hood here, it’s been a good year, my bank account’s on blimp! |
| Your girl said, she want my cock, I told you she ain’t talkin' 'about no shrimp |
| Nigga, everything in my notebook dope, it’s like I’m writing on hemp |
| Out of this world, comes a good ho, said she won’t gag, bet she won’t choke |
| Call me anything, but don’t call me broke, I’ll rock him bitch, «I Ain’t No Joke» |
| Sheeeeeit, don’t believe? |
| Just forget it, you’re so pathetic, yes I said it |
| Equifax nigga, check your credit, or ask Doc. |
| Dre, he can settle it |
| The way I fold your weed, I been dope, my kinfolk, is like En' Vogue |
| Never get the feeling that I invoke, I’m coming for mine, plus tenfold |
| Big bill bars, got a nigga sitting pretty, Ms. Info and if you don’t like |
| You ain’t gotta wonder, what I’m doing in your city,, or spread your titties |
| Double D’s? |
| (Yeah!) Double these, man go, you don’t want no trouble please |
| Look, every time you rap? |
| — Tumbleweed, look, every time I rap? |
| One of these |
| Ladies, shoot they shot, they show me what they think I’m missing |
| Shit, if you can’t stand the heat, then get THE HELL UP OUT MY KITCHEN! |
| (AWGH!) CAUSE I’M COOKING! |
| I said, «Made niggas, got maids, serving broads on trays» |
| Me and my niggas got bars, we (Cooking!) Barbecue on fire, we (Cooking!) |
| Me and my niggas got bars, we (Cooking!) Me and my niggas got bars, we (Cooking! |
| Me and my niggas got bars, we (Cooking!) Me and my niggas got bars, we (Cooking! |
| I give the people more than (what they asking for) |
| Me and my niggas (got cash to blow) |
| Why I gotta be (the best rapper fo'?) |
| When my whole team rap better than yours |
| I’mma take that as a compliment (Yeah!?) I’m the new rapper apocalypse (Yeah!) |
| This is the end of the world as you know it, attack and Hip-Hop is the populace |
| Bitches is twerkin' it, poppin' it, guns in the video not as the prop |
| Cause right after they shoot, me I’m poppin' it (POP-POP-POP!), I’m not |
| irrelevant |
| Or relevant, I’m more like reverend, even when they rebuke me, I’m profiting |
| I may mislead to you think that I don’t roll differently like this hoopty, |
| I’m hopping in |
| Po-po behind me, I already made up my mind, I won’t go for no homi' |
| Therefore, anything that you could put on paper, my lawyers will take and twist |
| into origami |
| Whip on Ashantis, I just broke up with the chick of your dreams |
| So now to me she a ho, now to me though I wish her well, she’s someone I |
| wouldn’t wish on nobody |
| Trapping to me and, trapping to you, is two different things, I’m from the era |
| of crack in the shoe and |
| Hoping your mama don’t vacuum, selling nic’s old school like Patrick Ewing |
| Anybody ask what you doing, when you got the shotty on you |
| Telling that you down to catch a body, like you’re trafficking humans |
| With the outlook of a chef, looking at the fire too long |
| I said, «Made niggas, got maids, serving broads on trays» |
| Me and my niggas got bars, we (Cooking!) Barbecue on fire, we (Cooking!) |
| Me and my niggas got bars, we (Cooking!) Me and my niggas got bars, we (Cooking! |
| Me and my niggas got bars, we (Cooking!) Me and my niggas got bars, we (Cooking! |
| I give the people more than (what they asking for) |
| Me and my niggas (got cash to blow) |
| Why I gotta be (the best rapper fo'?) |
| When my whole team rap better than yours |
| Laughing in the background, when I’m asking them, take ten paces, |
| then I’m firing — |
| Backwards with a Mac-10, in the back of they head, and they grow a windmill and |
| a backspin |
| (Go!) Plus a nigga got stars in his Iris, and they got more bars than the Irish |
| In the Ireland, with the Irish accent, never slip, I will never lose traction |
| Speak the truth, or bring the light, reach and touchin' the youth, |
| like Mike Jackson! |
| (AAAAAAAAAAGH!) Psycho wanna chase, for the late night action — |
| Standing ovations, when the hook stand up, yeah, they might start clapping |
| And I still got a backpack, but I catch stacks, stacks — |
| Like the industry whore, of tracks that I rap on fast, with a mute and closed |
| captions |
| I’mma spit it with a passion, but I got a little itty bitty question, I’m asking |
| Would you find it easier to pass an exam, if you were created in a test tube? |
| Do Crips watch True Blood? |
| Do Bloods fly jet blue? |
| Fuck it, drop it, pop it, shake it, like a Genie in a bottle |
| Lap dance, gimme that laptop, get it? |
| We call that, Serato |
| I said, «Made niggas, got maids, serving broads on trays» |
| Me and my niggas got bars, we (Cooking!) Barbecue on fire, we (Cooking!) |
| Me and my niggas got bars, we (Cooking!) Me and my niggas got bars, we (Cooking! |
| Me and my niggas got bars, we (Cooking!) Me and my niggas got bars, we (Cooking! |