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lou gram - real chef lyrics

[intro]
(mcd, sh+t)
yeah
(my n+gga johnny got another one)
yeah
yeah
(wooski, i think we got one)
yeah

[verse]
got a real chef cookin’ lamb chops in the kitchen
lookin’ at the crib like, “how the f+ck i did it?”
thirty in the game room, thirty for the ceilings
i’m just tryna get more money, less feelings
you done ran though the pape’, boy, you really finished
you should get some money ‘stead of tryna get some b+tches
had a twenty+year run and i’m still winnin’
n+ggas get on songs and talk how i’m livin’
n+ggas run off with that bag, get his mama hit
plain jane presi’ and the cubans, that’s my obama kit
n+gga sneak dissin’ on the ‘gram with the drama sh+t
stand on a n+gga, who the f+ck you got a problem with?
seen him in the club, had a n+gga shook
standin’ on the wall, he won’t even look
flashin’ that diddly+ass watch like it won’t get took
n+gga say he want beef, i know a n+gga cook it
made a dime off promo and twenty off the beans
sh+t, they ask how i get it, i get it off the lean
keep it one thousand, so it’s thirty in my jeans
got your b+tch at the condo and she don’t wanna leave
b+tch trippin’, mike amiri with the rips in ’em
hit a n+gga b+tch and he broke, sh+t hit different
look at my ice in the light, sh+t hit different
put a three+five in the ‘wood, sh+t hit different
i should call this song “hit different”
never whack a n+gga the same, every hit different
rose gold cuban, it’s plain, sh+t hit different
i ain’t that n+gga, he a lame, it’s a big difference
big shifter, in the coupe with a big fifty
yeah, it’s racks in the middle, n+gga, r.i.p. nipsey
in your town with that sh+t, n+gga, get with me
whip so fast, everybody just missed me (lou gram)

- lou gram lyrics

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