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lirik lagu westside gunn - 055

[intro: stove god cooks]
ah~ah~ah, ha
ah

[chorus: stove god cooks]
praise fly, praise stove, praise both
praise fly, praise the stove, praise both
i pray you see the way i’m livin’, that’s hope (that’s hope)
i pray you see the way we livin’, that’s hope, praise both (praise both)
praise fly, praise stove, praise both (i’m hope)
praise fly, praise the stove, praise both
i pray you see me hop up out that rolls, that’s hope (woo)
i pray you see me hop out that maybach, that’s hope (woo)
big chains on my neck, that’s hope
big ass bracelet on my wrist, that’s hope (that’s hope)
praise fly, praise stove, praise both (praise us both)
praise fly, praise stove

[verse 1: stove god cooks]
this ain’t new sh~t, b~tch, we been did it big (this ain’t new sh~t, b~tch, we been good)
this ain’t new sh~t, b~tch, we been getting bread
they said sly was talking like this back when he was in the feds
this that big pootie going up to see unc’ and me and west, that kinda hope (woo)
a real b~tch by your side, that’s hope (woo)
rough waters holdin’ in the boat
she gon’ swim for us both
my eyes closed, i can still smell crack smoke (woo)
eyes closed, i can still smell gun smoke
i still take heed into every plug quote that he said to me
laughing ’bout the lies that these sucker n~ggas fed to me
before i had my run, that sh~t really looked like bread to me
now what y’all call money, that sh~t ain’t even no bread to me
i got the recipe (woo)
last minute flights to places you will never see (that’s me)
i touch down, tsa come in and question me
can i live?
[verse 2: westside gunn]
ayo, hit him close up made his body slump (boom, boom, boom)
plain jane, rose gold, donald trump (ah)
balenciaga oakley’s on the gotti run (woo)
louis sheist’ had me stumblin’ in hakkasan (hmm)
fiend hit the pipe and said, “word is bond” (word is bond)
bracelet so big, i wish i had another arm (ah)
east side buffalo vietnam (grrt, doot~doot~doot~doot~doot)
all my shooters got one job (grrt)
fashion week k!lla, ask the n~gga boldy (ah)
fly n~gga, fed your b~tch d~ck and calamari
fly n~gga, speedin’ in the hatchback ‘rari (skrrt)
threw out the samples, feelin’ flip runnin’ like sha’carri (drum time)
the one leg, mister dope with the nutmeg (will)
sly still see his freedom from a bunk bed (ah)
canary 9~11, but the truck red (skrrt)
the square was three ounces short, now his son dead (boom, boom, boom, boom)

- lirik lagu westside gunn

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