Raekwon The Chef - Yae Yo lyrics

rate me

We doing this baby,

Oh shit!

What the fuck happened

Nah man, Nah

Nah this what I'ma do

I'ma get on the phone one time

Stupid, yo, aiyyo

Aiyyo

Verse 1:

Why this shit ain't cooking up right

Papi told me this is solid white

Fuck it wrap it up take it back up

Still in all it's a play out

Tired of spending money

Might get them niggas laid out

Yo, yo Fernando sent me yo

Stop acting hostile yo

And yo don't point that shit at me

Bad enough I gotta come in the crib

Wid spanish niggas using languages and shit

I'm feeling like a dick

Left the crib wit my hand brolic

This is some bullshit

Might get knocked take the wrist coward

Yo Fernando what happened?

Shit cooking up backwards

Light up a Backwood

Don't make me backtrack

Blew it dime it the llelo lay low

Saying in my mind

Fuck that papi gotta pay off

Cash rules the Power-Wu chant it

Yo Louis this ain't our product

This is Carlos family

Oh y'all wanna play me like a smoker

Coming out my ice choker

My man in the back, looking colder

Papi yo why y'all wanna jucks me

Yo listen B we got the best clientele since '83

Fuck it, pull out the pot let's cook it

Light the stove up

Julie go to the store get some flour

Sat back burning a big dutch

With the crisp 18 shot glock, stashed in my nuts

Poured it in the Pyrex sizzling

Now it start drizzling

Rainy day murder black won't miss him

Still I'm yelling this shit is business

But they still ain't gon' violate

What I stand for wid these drizzers

He took it off the stove run the water

Trying to work me yo

Knew I shouldn'ta hit the nigga's daughter

He mighta showed more love

Than went in the freezer

Broke the ice down, pour it in

We both looking at it on the twirl around particles grew

Fly Khaluas is mad sliding Coronas through

Feeling like Castro's cousin

Gave them niggas all of my life

All of my paper all my judgement

It droppa only like an ounce worth

Should I just come out my shirt

Go berserk and let the Macks burst

Skate off body in the Bronx

Same shit Gotti was on

Shallah they gonna get your's play it calm

Seventeen five was the total plus the five,

Hundred for the cab driver that was rolling