This what it sound like if i sent my dad letters
I miss your cooking, and your one sided lectures
And smoke it while you're cooking meth, it flows with ease,
You pussies ain't shit but venereal disease
George bush got some nerve, fuck a war, we trying to serve
Sitting in the room, on the phone, cooking up orders
You cooking for angels, always a legend, rockin heaven
I’m popping now, every other hour, paparazzi come
I'm spending hours in the kitchen cooking up carols
I'm tryna follow money, she tryna fall in love
You say i'm in the kitchen.. cooking up shit to splinter creeps
This is not somethin that i wrote for tha queens
Or be real good at cooking
Bun b, i’m underground king
Where i'm from, if you ever seen what i seen
They behind bars like they was cooking amphetamine
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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