Kitchen - Jim Jones, Philthy Rich, Hell Rell

Kitchen - Jim Jones, Philthy Rich, Hell Rell

Альбом
We Own The Night Pt. 2: Memoirs Of A Hustler
Год
2014
Язык
`英語`
Длительность
295430

以下は曲の歌詞です Kitchen 、アーティスト - Jim Jones, Philthy Rich, Hell Rell 翻訳付き

歌詞 " Kitchen "

原文と翻訳

Kitchen

Jim Jones, Philthy Rich, Hell Rell

Vamp life

(I got that money)

You know what they say

Trap jumping

When it get to hot in the kitchen, uh

What you cooking?

Chicken or fish?

(I don’t wanna hear you niggas talking about no more work)

How many pots on the stove?

I got the money and I got the pack

(Got that pack)

I drop a deuce in then I bring it back

(Bring it right back)

Drop a four in it then drop

They love when I be cooking up the blow

In the kitchen, I’m in love with my kitchen

I’m in love with my kitchen

I’m in love with my kitchen

I’m in love with my kitchen

Yeah

I got the money and I got the sack

(Got that sack)

I drop a deuce in it then I bring it back

In the kitchen

I got four pots going and a crock pot too

Cooked four quarters and I got back two

Want fishscale?

And I got that too

But I’m dry right now

Nigga stop back through

Talking 'bout cooking the whiter shade

Nigga’s be using the microwave

They booked 'em and took 'em in right away

He might never see the light of day

The walls in my kitchen all yellow

So I put the coke in the fridge like it’s Jello

You know you got to guard the kitchen

So I keep shooters in New York like Carmello

I be cooking that shit like it’s Ruth Chris

Cooking that shit to a new whip

Look at that shit while I’m hitting that shit

Now I’m whipping that shit like its Cool Whip

Traffic, compression then stretch it

To buy it we don’t need to test it

If it ain’t about money don’t stress it

Put the Tec to a nigga like a message

Still cooking coke like five stars

Young dope boy with five cars

All cash nigga how be buy ours

Yeah we live fast and we die hard

I got the money and I got the pack

(Got that pack)

I drop a deuce in then I bring it back

(Bring it right back)

Drop a four in it then drop

They love when I be cooking up the blow

In the kitchen, I’m in love with my kitchen

I’m in love with my kitchen

I’m in love with my kitchen

I’m in love with my kitchen

Yeah

I got the money and I got the sack

(Got that sack)

I drop a deuce in it then I bring it back

In the kitchen

Ruger!

Man I got the money and I got the pack

You know a Ruger to this little light-skinned bitch

He ain’t never gotta buy

(Hey baby)

All I gotta do is look at my shooter and he 'gon pop the strap

Uptown with the mother-fuckin' killers is where you’ll find me at

Might cook a whole brick with my gun on me

Shoot my old man if he run on me

Bury me in all gold

At least put a mother-fucking ton on me

Man these nigga’s ain’t living right

Don’t be suprised if you got a homie

I brought some real money out tonight

In case niggas front on me

In my kitchen

I’m in love in my kitchen

When my hand start to itchin' then them bricks get to flippin'

Bought a house with ten bathrooms, because I stay shittin'

Nigga’s look funny then my shooters start hittin'

(Hittin')

I got the money and I got the pack

(Got that pack)

I drop a deuce in then I bring it back

(Bring it right back)

Drop a four in it then drop

They love when I be cooking up the blow

In the kitchen, I’m in love with my kitchen

I’m in love with my kitchen

I’m in love with my kitchen

I’m in love with my kitchen

Yeah

I got the money and I got the sack

(Got that sack)

I drop a deuce in it then I bring it back

In the kitchen

Uh-huh

It’s Philthy nigga

I do!

Look

I say now forty birds in my caravan

This forty on me got a kick-stand

I’m in love with the kitchen nigga

Tell the hoe do the dishes nigga

(Ay, clean up bitch!)

Two stoves and eight pots

Two niggas cooking eight blocks

The from foot heels to that’s eight blocks

In the kitchen like culinary

These nigga’s actors like Tyler Perry

Ain’t never move no kilos

Couldn’t find you one like Nemo

My whole hood been locked up for trafficking, doing life nigga

On 580 doing eighty nigga with an eighty pack of that white shit

Thirty-six and the whole whammy

In a cereal box stuffed in the cabinet

Right behind all the baking soda

If you cook it right you might take it over

Fish-scale, my lips sealed, I’ll never tell what I don' seen

Bag it up, put a thousand grams on the triple-beam

(It's Philthy)

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