Action Bronson, Meyhem Lauren - Got the Recipe lyrics

Yeah, yeah
Yo, we got another one my nigga (2009 shit)
Ayo Bronson (What up?) ayo (What up?)
Straight up man
I'm here with the motherfuckin' they way
That nigga serves 'em up (That's right)
Know what I mean? (yeah)
We got tenderloin in the oven right now
(just to find the truffles)
Steak rub nigga nigga (That's word)
Ayo, ayo, ayo (That's word)

Yo I progress steadily, move with integrity
Clock cheddar heavily, word that's the recipe
Exceptionally ill with this rap shit
Get back
Like I can show you hot the Mac spit
But I ain't talkin' bout been liver
Had a few fucked up years, a survivor
Type to stay on my job not a resignеr
I was just a minor gettin' head in a reclinеr
Making moves major night fiend with a pager
White, Puerto Rican, black
Had chicks in every flavor
Substances that you savor
Selling it to your neighbor
They never going down, I keeps 'em on me
Escalader stupidly stupendous
Use to sip when we crack
Bottles on the benches
That's that QU shit that I
Kick from the heart
My rhyme book belongs in the
Modern museum of art

Mind over matter
Skip the chatter with the fuckin' batter up
Batter up, silver plate the platter up
It's all about who got the fatter duck
We poke your bladder up and let the
Fuckin' chopper cut your cabbage up
Indigenous weapons sour lemon scented
Salutations from the kitchen gave
By seven Frenchmen
We make the sauce, the title is the saucier
The chain reaction from the
Metal powder the tray

A seven hundred dollar bottle of that
Far and away, extraordinary God display
'em, look beyond the solar system
Draw it all into a square
Until you find what's missing
Take your time 'cause patience
Is your best friend simmering the sets in
Prep your area, sterilize the work tools
Foul living
Never seen upon the church stools
I'm still sportin' the shorts
Until the winter the charismatic, the dope
Addict, the shredder, splinter
Roll the magic
I'm feeling like I'm in the water
How the fuck I managed rolling a quarter
Slaughter
Many cattle, many time for pleasure
Modeling the skin while I'm
Searching for the treasure
Yo keep a, sink your body deep in that Coup
Or they seem to find you sleep in that suit
Shoot
The big dipper, the golden candy caddy tipper
Close my eyes back in time
Tryna murder Hitler my mind, it rhymes
Aligned with the solar signs
Dinosaurs disappear holding wine
Layers of cake
Fiends up in the Okeechobee Lake
Freshwater pike is on the plate
Set the table, butcher up the baby lamb
Brazed artichoke 80 grams

Mind over matter
Skip the chatter with the fuckin' batter up
Batter up, silver plate the platter up
It's all about who got the fatter duck
We poke your bladder up and let the
Fuckin' chopper cut your cabbage up
Indigenous weapons sour lemon scented
Salutations from the kitchen gave
By seven Frenchmen
We make the sauce, the title is the saucier
The chain reaction from the
Metal powder the tray

Yo crab leg interior, splash with butter
Eating like aristocrats but when it's
War we more gutter
Fuck your mother, I should cut her
When it's on, that's how I think
Snatch a baby up, drown 'em
Leave 'em floating in the sink
My link look right in the sunlight
We dumb tight when niggas on the other side
Of town down to gunfight
Air Nike jam since way back been slappin' ya
With parmesan crusted tilapia

Word up, nigga
Meyhem Lauren, Action Bronson, on the beat
Y'all niggas know what it is, son