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westside gunn, stove god cooks, estee nack & trap-a-holics - jd wrist lyrics

[intro: westside gunn]
ayo, four door ferrari, n+ggas know my body
standing on the couch, me, pop smoke, and bari
flyest n+gga in the gq party, wallahi
shootout on l avenue, caught a homi’
trap+a+holics, what’s happening?
the brick squad youngin’ slim dunkin, snap that motherf+cker back, squad
trap+a+holics, b+tch

[verse 1: westside gunn]
ayo, four door ferrari (skrrt), n+ggas know my body (know my body)
standing on the couch, me, pop smoke, and bari (pop smoke and bari)
flyest n+gga in the gq party, wallahi (mmm)
shootout on l avenue, caught a homi (boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, real trap sh+t)
down east lafayette, breeze on the set
frank clegg duffels, mention me again, i’m on your neck (boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom)
eating beef ball, well wagyu in the ‘jects
spilt my caviar, prada linen look a mess
i’m at bulgari hotel, 3k a night
i think about sly, how he on the cot for four lives
i think about usp atlanta, holding with the mice
i think about fci coleman, noodles with the rice
i’m a eastside n+gga, children’s hospital baby
peace to the park down the way, up to bailey
ecmc broad day, you try to play me
i leave out the spot, all the b+tches wanna take me (boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom)
[chorus: stove god cooks]
they can’t tell you nothing when you rich like this
cocaine jumping out the tank, your sh+t ain’t fish like this
europe for three months, b+tch, you don’t trip like this
shiny suit on, who else you know cook a brick like this?
puff daddy with the remix, jd wrist remix
courtside all season, maybach truck bleeding (but you ain’t know?)

[verse 2: stove god cooks]
i was hyped up off that cocaine money then the food came
bagger spent nine hours skimping bundles in his flu games
when you spend your last and it don’t cook, now that’s some true pain
young boy popped three percs, he said that give him good aim
i feel like shakur skippin’ out in that armani suit (i do)
chopped it up with wallo in a van outside armani shoot
“n+gga, you did twenty, now you got the juice”
he said, “when they leave you open, stove, you gotta shoot”
water whippin’, got the mix up (woo), money came and they switched up
fans came and they switched up, everything they shooting switched up
b+tch, i’m what it look like when the coke work (when the coke work)
when the rap work, when the dope work
blood red supreme north face faux fur
rolls royce with the chauffeur
got eleven bricks in both doors

[chorus: stove god cooks]
they can’t tell you nothing when you rich like this (can’t tell me nothing)
cocaine jumping out the tank, your sh+t ain’t fish like this (your sh+t ain’t jumping)
europe for three months, b+tch, you don’t trip like this (all this louis luggage)
shiny suit on, who else you know cook a brick like this? (who?)
puff daddy with the remix (woo), jd wrist remix (woo)
courtside all season, maybach truck bleeding
[verse 3: estee nack]
choppers in the trunk, keep a hundred thou’ in the safe
treat a n+gga like a chump, get the f+ck up out of my face
blow it like an immediate feature, only gettin’ laced
get him up out of my sp+ce, disappear without a trace
with my peers, i was pumping bass, many years i was up late
feeling lethal, brought ’em in and we take them sh+ts out of state
n+ggas talking ’bout some beef, so we k!lled it without a case
i can feel the hate, they obviously talkin’ out of place
wrap up them six o’s
y’all n+ggas ain’t never had no bread and it shows
only thing i’m worried ’bout is my dough
diamond carat on the ring and it glows
sin city, n+ggas sniff blow
big cash, we smoking hydro
running laps, floating on the five+o
5 series bimmer with my eyes closed
jd shooter from chicago
take n+ggas on a long trip
throw ’em in the lake, take a dip
bake a cake, n+ggas know i’ma make it fit
baggin’ up right in front of a naked b+tch
in the streets, getting money and takin’ risks
sh+t, i’ll be d+mned if i ever chase a b+tch
i might just f+ck on your b+tch and pay for her tits
[refrain: estee nack]
big booty on my lap, big bankroll don’t fit in my pockets
midnight riding ’round town, get his ass whacked tryna get at my profit
gun a n+gga down, every service leaking like faucets
i be drippin’ in designer sauces, got a b+tch living like bosses
big booty on my lap, big bankroll don’t fit in my pockets
midnight riding ’round town, get his ass whacked tryna get at my profit
gun a n+gga down, every service leaking like faucets
i be drippin’ in designer sauces, got a b+tch living like bosses

[outro: westside pootie]
trap+a+holics
you’s a window shopper
you mad at me, i think you know why
ayo, it’s westside pootie and i’m in paris right now
just landed from cairo and before that, milan
and before that, rome and before that, santorini
and before that, athens and before that, copenhagen
and before, i was at paris fashion week
and this whole time, the haters doing what? exactly
and if y’all don’t get it, just say that
if y’all broke, just say that
but don’t deny greatness, that’s just pathetic
now let me go, i have a picnic set at the eiffel
you’s a window shopper

- westside gunn stove god cooks estee nack trap a holics lyrics

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