a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 #

stanwill - recipe lyrics

[intro]
(depo made this b+tch)

[verse 1: stanwill]
huh, i’m with e tryna catch a b
checkmate a n+gga face in my louis checkered sneaks
time is money, you be thinkin’ every second cheap
he might got the sauce, but he ain’t got the recipe
since i got my money up, my b+tch been seein’ less of me
you gotta think on every l, that’s where the lesson be
glued to my hip, that’s where the weapon be
sticked with g23, think me and glocky siamеse
cuddy catch them n+ggas out, he givin’ oppiеs ivs
and these double coffee cups probably wocky hi+cs
fifth generation glock, the ‘fit i’m rockin’ five g’s

[verse 2: babyfxce e]
huh, three racks in the gucci belt, that’s five g’s
catch me doin’ donuts in the slatt cat, it’s slime green
chase a n+gga in the scat, had him doin’ high knees
and that’s no rap either, ain’t no point in lyin’ to you
i can sell this sh+t on my wrist and go buy a boat
then put an ap up on my sh+t after a couple shows
huh, should i bring a lot or just a couple hoes?
sippin’ drank, i know you ashed in your cup before
see, me, man, i’m still gon’ f+ckin’ drink it
don’t be reachin’ for my phone, b+tch, i’ma tell you that you tweakin’
[verse 3: stanwill]
don’t call my celly tryna f+ck, bae, i’m gon’ tell you when i need it
talkin’ to a hammy, told you i’m gon’ zelle you by the evening
trunk in the front, cybertruck d+mn near ass backwards
face so pretty, i don’t even think the ass matter
aimin’ for his roof, it’s funny we gon’ blast ladders
ex+b+tch or my opposites, don’t know who ass madder
at the ‘yo with your ho finna make a hit
all this f+ckin’ cheese on me, yo should take a pic’
she pulled up on the seven and she ate a d+ck
tell the cops play the fifth, opps play the bl!ck
i love the f+ckin’ p+ssy, but i hate the b+tch
pop out with that switch, we tryna make a swish
unky playin’ with that food but he can’t make a dish
she gon’ f+ck me on my datejust and you gon’ date the b+tch

[verse 4: babyfxce e]
real ice, man, y’all n+ggas out here fakin’ sh+t
now your ass a tweaker, man, somebody probably laced this sh+t
i was on m block tryna hurry up and weigh this sh+t
and sealin’ pints, tellin’ n+ggas when the cases in
fast dude, how the f+ck i pull up late again?
fill him up with 40s just to make sure that he ate again
huh, i don’t miss, i must be shootin’ on the baby rim
lil’ bro first gun was a switch, he don’t do baby steps
yeah, he just started runnin’
told her drive, you know that it don’t let n0body park in front of me
i got so much love, i pulled up a hundred deep
two matching glocks, tote chops, it’s a brother thing
slide down to ohio, man, i know they f+ck with me
[verse 5: stanwill]
watch cost thirty, remember i couldn’t even up a g
if you want me to get that double c then suck a d
my b+tch yellow, soda black, sh+t, i might be a bumblebee
i blew five hundred up at mortons, check please
this b+tch ain’t the bank, told her she can’t check me
they could teach me yoga, oppies wouldn’t stretch me
i’m with e, so when i pop out, it’s with an xd

[outro: stanwill]
b+tch, dog sh+t militia
gang

- stanwill lyrics

Random Lyrics

HOT LYRICS