Paroles de ' Puff Daddy (feat. Stove God Cooks) ' par Roc Marciano

I wrote this shit up in my hoe spot
I came up with this sitting in my hoe spot
(Bust that pussy open, they don't know what that smell like)
We just had a thousand trick summer, a million trick winter
I'm fresh up out my hoe spot
Puff Daddy with the twat, can't stop, won't stop

We the shit, come see if it stick
Swiss cheese, we leave you in ya dream whip
The script it was green lit
Split when the screams hit a fever pitch
I'm deep in this bitch, my sneakers is drenched
Been with Nina through thin and thick
The candle is lit at two different ends
I'm sick, I'm pouring medicine in my drink
It's pink, they say ignorance is bliss
That scene in the flick I bit the stick then made you said it was fake
Through a signal that was sent to the brain
A pimp in this game, that's word to Kunta Kinte's chains
The day and date face lemonade
The yellow range lemon meringue
As for my nuts I just let em' hang like a set of drapes
Sip the Hennessey straight or maybe chase like some runaway slaves
I pray the train ain't running late the gauge is my only running mate
My blade will cut ya face was just like some funnel cake
Then left a bubble on ya fade that's a buck and some change
Blood rain from the jugular vein
Flood the drain for tryna kick mud on a brother name
I was hovering above the fray like a plane
Without a stain on my suede I don't gang bang
I played the oven range
I'm insane I'm stuck in my ways
But our mothers claimed that we're saints (we was saints), but we ain't (but we ain't)
Covered in pain I moved up in weight
You's just a sitting duck in the lake
Bout to get touched by the flame, something was made
We ate, the plate gave us stomach pains and some aches
But I have zero complaints in this wraith nigga (nigga)

I wrote this shit up in the dope spot
I came up with this sitting in the dope spot
(We bust a brick open you don't know what that smell like)
We just had 20 brick summer, 7 body winter
I'm fresh up out the dope spot
Puff daddy with the pot can't stop won't stop

Over the stove hitting it with the baking soda like
Take that, take that, take that, take that
The rest is liars (them niggas lying)
Jump out the Maserati in the best attire
Your favorite rapper testify I'm extra fire
Money talk, your shit extra tesla quiet
Spill the champagne on my Gucci aces, flexercisin'
You know it splash right off the leather
But it stick to the string like violin
I got a shooter with me and a shaman
We gonna take your soul and analyze it
Ask em' how we had the Benz's on Burk Street (ask em')
Lex's on state nigga, that was the worst me (woo)
My momma fucked El Chapo then birthed me
What's crumbs to a brick boy? You playing with bird seeds
Stove God, Abba of the Pot
We just packed the Ariana Grande in the drop
My young boy Ramadan your block
Leave you holy if you make it, you won't eat shit for a month
Fuck a drought fuck what day it is my shit jump! (My shit jump)

I wrote this shit up in the dope spot
I came up with this sitting in the dope spot
(We bust a brick open you don't know what that smell like)
We just had 20 brick summer, 7 body winter
I'm fresh up out the dope spot
Puff daddy with the pot can't stop won't stop