Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Cook Up, artist - Pressa. Album song Press a Brick, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 15.12.2017
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Blue Feathers
Song language: English
Cook Up |
Them niggas funny, huh? |
Saint Laurent, What’s them niggas on? |
Hella large |
Small circle don’t do hexagons |
Cookie Jar, I need that bread, I need that croissant |
What you want? |
I’m sellin' shit, just like Uncle Toms |
30 Glock, on my waist, my pants’ll never sag |
50 bags, catch me in my head he got a tag |
38, in my pocket I better never jam |
Mercedes Benz, came with sensors better never crash |
He be calling up my name, but he ain’t name brand |
Cook up dope and shoot a nigga, with the same hand |
He’s just sitting on his money, post the same bandz |
So I go in for my bros, I got the same dad |
I heard you mad well here’s a cape, go be superman |
lost her son and now she super sad |
Feel like we bring back the dead the way we bouncin' back |
My niggas grab the knife, soon as the cells are crack |
And girls who used to diss, they like my boomerang |
Niggas know we winnin' you could check the stacks |
Louie bag, Chanel Bag, she just want a nigga that |
Can buy that |
Them niggas funny, huh? |
Saint Laurent, What’s them niggas on? |
Hella large |
Small circle don’t do hexagons |
Cookie Jar, I need that bread, I need that croissant |
What you want? |
I’m sellin' shit, just like Uncle Toms |
30 Glock, on my waist, my pants’ll never fall |
50 bags, catch me in my hood he got a tag |
38, in my pocket I better never jam |
Mercedes Benz, came with sensors better never crash |
Wassi shit, wassi shit, we so wassi bitch |
40 Glock, skinny nigga, but it fit my ribs |
Hit em up, niggas talking like they with the shits |
Bitch niggas, he get caught and now he explainin' shit |
Rainy days, fishy whip, and we slide, we drift |
Lil' nigga, stash his gun I got a rusty fit |
Fam please don’t trip, fuck around get the surgeon |
Diamonds lit, piece look like a pyramid |
Clip so long, clip so long, clip look like a mile |
And the feds, they got my name on file |
Cookin' dope, sellin' dope, where they pay the most? |
In the scope, call my phone, and it’s a trap phone |
Them niggas funny, huh? |
Saint Laurent, What’s them niggas on? |
Hella large |
Small circle don’t do hexagons |
Cookie Jar, I need that bread, i need that croissant |
What you want? |
I’m sellin' shit, just like Uncle Toms |
30 Glock, on my waist, my pants’ll never fall |
50 bags, catch me in my hood he got a tag |
38, in my pocket I better never jam |
Mercedes Benz, came with sensors better never crash |