Icewear Vezzo, BIG30 - Kitchen lyrics

(Damn, Max, this one's too hard) big
Fuck a nigga talkin’ 'bout
Nigga? yeah, yeah, yeah

Fifty pointers bulgin' out my bezel
This bitch icy (Damn)
Fuck the world, I can’t keep no
Plug 'cause we too slimy, yeah
Pop a thizzle, blow a pound of Runtz
I'm looking Chinese (Drank God)
Big F&N clip stuck on that bitch
I call 'em Siamese
The way this Rollie dancing in the sun
This shit look ignorant
Ghetto nigga, I done put
My Wraith on twenty-sixes, yeah
(Skrrt) hit the hood, drop a heavy bag
They think it's Christmas (On God)
Beam on the Glock, shit blue and red
Look like the Pistons (Detroit)

You screamin' rest In peace to your mans
But you ain't step by him
Walk him down, I just helped you out
Now you can rest by him
Sold a nigga five thousand blues
Them bitches press downs (For real)
Before I found a plug in the city
I beat the Lex down (KY)
I really have my way with this shit
I don't do no cappin’ (Uh, uh)
Hit the titty bar with my Glock
I call that pole dancin’ (Get it?)
You ain't got no respect in your hood
They don’t get no action poured a 4K
Popped two Perkies and now I'm slow dancin'
Made my first million, bought jewelry, bitch
I'm a statistic (yeah)
Set him up, he in that trick bag
I’m a magician (Hah)
Love that fashion
Spent a light ten on some good Christians
When I cook, it always come back
I got a good kitchen

Ayy, bitch, I been Crippin' (Been Crippin')
If I tell a lie up in this song
Then you can quit listenin' (Quit listenin')
I done drunk up twenty racks this week
I'm finna quit sippin' (Quit sippin')
Postin' on the Mile with them killers
It feel like South Memphis (South Memphis)
Plus I come from the trenches
(The trenches)
This shit ain't nothin' new (Blrrrd)
Young nigga with power in my hood
I'm who they run to (On God)
Gangster by myself
Gon' shoot my gun and kill somethin' too
(On God) i'm smokin on this opp pack
Chillin' with the nigga slumped you
(Gas, gas)
Ayy, ain't too many niggas like this (No)
Try to fight up in this club
Make you fight for your life, bitch
(Ho) forty pieces straight to Memphis
Shout out to my white bitch (My white)
Got all these rappers coppin' Cartier
But this some light shit (Some light shit)

Fifty pointers bulgin' out my bezel
This bitch icy
Fuck the world, I can't keep no
Plug 'cause we too slimy, yeah
Pop a thizzle, blow a pound of Runtz
I'm looking Chinese
Big F&N clip stuck on that bitch
I call 'em Siamese
The way this Rollie dancing in the sun
This shit look ignorant
Ghetto nigga, I done put
My Wraith on twenty-sixes, yeah
Hit the hood, drop a heavy bag
They think it's Christmas
Beam on the Glock, shit blue and red
Look like the Pistons