Cookin Soul - Marci lyrics
[Cookin Soul - Marci lyrics]
God bless my soul I'm a sinner
The path to righteousness is thinner
I was beating with many stripes
Far more than I like to remember
My life is like a wild adventure
Cops tried to pinch us
Niggas piled up in my mama's Sentra
I had the 9 with the condenser
Your T go from white to magenta
When them shots enter
Hit you and left your body bent up
(nigga twisted)
You know the chain of command if it's for
Dollars then we can prolly link up
But otherwise it's unlikely my nigga
I'm not to be taken lightly
I'm a silent killеr do me a solid
Come suck what's behind thе zipper
I steer the ship, ma, I'm the skipper
I don't fish
I'm more Guy Fisher but just a bit richer
There's no magician that could trick us
No roost no chickens could spook
Us we ain't superstitious
I'm witcha bitch in the booth
In the Ruth Chris kissing
We slid in the back door
And walked through the kitchen ass so fat
This shit had me tripping like
Tryna stick Rod Strickland my aura glisten
I shot the bull with the
Stick from long distance
And went off the grid to chill just
Like a baller with a torn meniscus
I still never slip with all this
Water dripping, knocked the game up
It was more than just morning sickness
I hit the floor to beg for the
Lord's forgiveness, I done
Lost my discipline, i'm tempted
Listen, kid, I'm still on that pimp shit
My shooter's like Larry Bird he from
Port-au-Prince he not from French Lick
Shit is intrinsic, my niggas kill
That's how we build friendships
Til then your membership's pending
Pinky ring with the diamond pendant swinging
I'm in a european speeding up and down Linden
The path to righteousness is thinner
I was beating with many stripes
Far more than I like to remember
My life is like a wild adventure
Cops tried to pinch us
Niggas piled up in my mama's Sentra
I had the 9 with the condenser
Your T go from white to magenta
When them shots enter
Hit you and left your body bent up
(nigga twisted)
You know the chain of command if it's for
Dollars then we can prolly link up
But otherwise it's unlikely my nigga
I'm not to be taken lightly
I'm a silent killеr do me a solid
Come suck what's behind thе zipper
I steer the ship, ma, I'm the skipper
I don't fish
I'm more Guy Fisher but just a bit richer
There's no magician that could trick us
No roost no chickens could spook
Us we ain't superstitious
I'm witcha bitch in the booth
In the Ruth Chris kissing
We slid in the back door
And walked through the kitchen ass so fat
This shit had me tripping like
Tryna stick Rod Strickland my aura glisten
I shot the bull with the
Stick from long distance
And went off the grid to chill just
Like a baller with a torn meniscus
I still never slip with all this
Water dripping, knocked the game up
It was more than just morning sickness
I hit the floor to beg for the
Lord's forgiveness, I done
Lost my discipline, i'm tempted
Listen, kid, I'm still on that pimp shit
My shooter's like Larry Bird he from
Port-au-Prince he not from French Lick
Shit is intrinsic, my niggas kill
That's how we build friendships
Til then your membership's pending
Pinky ring with the diamond pendant swinging
I'm in a european speeding up and down Linden