Lyrics Cookie Pack - Drakeo The Ruler, Ralfy The Plug

Cookie Pack

Put that thing in that thing, cock back clips and reload
You heard what happened to the last nigga tryna be Debo?
Kurt Angle, got Mei Ling and Su Yung in a headlock
Jimmy Choos, which one, you want a face or a headshot?
Mob sticks in the car, finna knock his dreads off
Wall to wall, the beat slappin' like I’m playin' handball
In the jungle, I’m a Grizzly like I’m Zack Randolph
Fifty shots out the Bentley, let’s see if his head strong
They like, «Drakeo, why you do that?
You know you dead wrong»
«He had his whole career ahead of him,» when he died, it was bread crumbs
When the the 40 ounce hit him outside he left red rum
Oh my God, Jesus, what did they do to my grandson?
(Shit)
I think you need to speak a little louder
Beef with his beef, we turned that to clam chowder
If you don’t got no money, you can’t buy no man power
This chopper, it just had a nigga stuck for ten hours
We are not the same, I don’t know niggas
Have him swimmin' with the sharks like goldfishes
Two chops', named 'em «Rocky» and «Bullwinkle»
Grim reaper, street sweeper, I’m a soul snatcher
Heard they givin' out deals on the toe taggin'
Hit stick, this a blitz, I’m like go Madden
In this year, '21, they for sure rattin'
Oh that’s your friend, you don’t care, start a GoFundMe
Motorcader shooter, drums on the table bulletproof
Opps out there hidin' behind the cameras, put a hoodie on
Tricky dance moves, psychedelic, get yo' boogie on
Rap beef gone in the wind, he’s a cookie pack (Shit, nigga)
We ain’t going back and forth, he’s a rookie rapper (Nigga)
That beef gone in the wind, he’s a cookie pack
Yeah, he’s a tattoo
Mouth runnin' like a bitch, that’s what rats do
Chopsticks, mop sticks, nigga, start cleanin'
Made him strip from a stick long as Shaq' shoe (Sheesh)
That’s a ad-lib
I catch you squeakin', I’ma cut off his rat tail
I’m from the Stinc Team, we bought all the racks in
Just 'cause it sunny up in Cali, it ain’t that sweet
You out of town niggas better pay y’all taxes
Three thousand blues stuffed in the mattress
You Heath Ledger and we all know how that went
Three-hundred thousand in the duffle, do a backflip
Motorcader shooter, drums on the table bulletproof
Opps out there hidin' behind the cameras, put a hoodie on
Tricky dance moves, psychedelic, get yo' boogie on
Rap beef gone in the wind, he’s a cookie pack (Shit, nigga)
We ain’t going back and forth, he’s a rookie rapper (Nigga)
That beef gone in the wind, he’s a cookie pack
Another opp dead, turn a nigga to cookie pack
We gettin' money, you still broke wit' your rookie ass
Niggas get shot in the face for getting mad
I asked her for some money and she went in her hooker bag
I’m like the cashier the way a nigga took her cash
I’m the truth in the booth, I cook up fast
In the county I went form door to door and whoopin' ass
Niggas like, «Can I get some Plug pack?
That shit be gas»
That’s a XD-40 with extended mag'
I want a Bentley, yo' dream car just a Jag'
Mob ties to the word and he’ll get whacked
It’s like he wear a fresh cut to school how he’ll get smacked (Uh)
Motorcader shooter, drums on the table bulletproof
Opps out there hidin' behind the cameras, put a hoodie on
Tricky dance moves, psychedelic, get yo' boogie on
Rap beef gone in the wind, he’s a cookie pack (Shit, nigga)
We ain’t going back and forth, he’s a rookie rapper (Nigga)
That beef gone in the wind, he’s a cookie pack