Cook Up - Lil Gotit

Cook Up - Lil Gotit

  • Year of release: 2018
  • Language: English
  • Duration: 1:58

Below is the lyrics of the song Cook Up , artist - Lil Gotit with translation

Lyrics " Cook Up "

Original text with translation

Cook Up

Lil Gotit

Hood talk

Alright

Trunk in the front, this ain’t no ordinary engine

Need all the money, yeah, I want all the blue benjis

Car outside runnin', yeah, this speed have no limit

My racks is strong, my appearance have attention

These racks gettin' long, fifty on me, not no ten shit

Don’t call my phone, I don’t got no business with you

Big house and lawn, got our vibes makin' visuals

Bust down two-tone, put one them on your head, they get you

This no cappin', catch the static

Got your ho she doin' the nasty

Uzi came, we ridin' on benches

Uzi game, might shoot out benches

If it’s slime over here, play nasty

Shooters in your bushes campin'

All my chains, they Michael Jackson

Your diamonds, they look like plastic

Tryna reach for my shit, take your chances

Riches leave 'em where he standin'

Paid all cash, I’m not rentin'

What’s in the stash?

I got plenty

Chanel bag hold that sticky

And my slimes up the blicky

Half a million, oh, I’m leading

Got they face lookin' shitty

Crazy bitch, get out of my face, you vicky

Wanna put rose gold pures in the

Bitch boy ain’t gon' slide, he chicken

Red and green beams on Glock, no Christmas

Southside Nechie with me, yeah, he crippin'

Go and tie your shoes, lil' boy, you trippin'

Going all the way up, this beginning

Build this shit up, I ain’t talking 'bout bridges

Talk too much so his face got stitches

Time to cook up, put in the kitchen

Talk to my dog, we ain’t fightin' 'bout bitches

It’s not hi-tech, time to listen

Yellow diamonds on my wrist, I pissed it

Just come and test who gon' be the richest

Might pop a Perc just to get me a feeling

Now I get racks but I came from stealin'

They scared of beefing 'cause that shit forbidden

We don’t talk, gon' shake the building

He say he tryna take my spot, oh really?

Can’t get no cover on the millions

Steak and shrimp, oh yeah, we livin'

I’m at top floor lookin' over the city

With two french bitches in the bed kissin'

Young nigga shit, they better get wit' it

Hood, baby (Drip)

Hood, baby (Kill 'em)

Hood, baby (Drip)

Hood, baby (Kill 'em)

Hood, baby (Drip)

Hood, baby (Kill 'em)

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