Joseph Rose, Preme - Cookin' lyrics

You don't a fuckin' clue of
What I'm capable to do
Only accountable to be win the one that
Just walks into the room and shoot
No Steph Curry
I ain't dribblin' and shootin'
Hoops, I'm runnin' through alley ways
Chasin' someone that owes me loot
Makin' my stops through the city in the
Coop, always stay in a loop
Make sure I check with every troop
Got the iPhone, BlackBerry, Samsung and
Motorola, hit my e mail
Our voice caused it out of order
Don't even say it, guaranteed they
Got my phone tapped
Listen to the clickin' and echo
In sounds in the back
Young entrepreneur, all about
My business endeavors
I'll never jump ship retopped to pow pow ever
(Fuck that)
I got the hot tail drivin' around in circles
Gettin' head from your bitch until
My dick is purple
In the kitchen whip it double time, 'ya
All turtle, ship it off quick
Make it drop and fit the murder

I'm the just livin' the high life
Only got one, so I'm gonna do it right
'45 stashed under the passenger side
In case somebody wanna come
And commit suicide
You don't wanna make me lose control
You better chill, homie take it slow
You talk a lot of shit
That's what I've been told
Don't wanna make the twelve gauge barrel blow

Baby sleepin' on me while I'm gettin'
Restless, I just made my entrance
You was headin' for the exit
Young-thug nigga but I bet they get the
Message, I can quit rappin' right now
I got investments all my niggas wild (True)
Bottles in my section, I tell
That hoe get undressing
Bitch i get to steppin'
Her booty is a blessing, she use it as
A weapon, if I painted the Porshe yellow
Only time I drive a lemon
The whip is never used, I ride in
Something new, let a nigga touch me
I bet he make the news
Call up the connect, for bricks I gotta
Choose, a million a week bitch
Enjoy the views
I drop drop drop drop back in
This bitch like, strapped up
We don't fist fight, pull up
Quick in your bitch like
50k what your wrist like
Last man standing for the "W"
I done seein' nigga switched up
For a buck or two, fuck is you

I'm the just livin' the high life
Only got one, so I'm gonna do it right
'45 stashed under the passenger side
In case somebody wanna come
And commit suicide
You don't wanna make me lose control
You better chill, homie take it slow
You talk a lot of shit
That's what I've been told
Don't wanna make the twelve gauge barrel blow