Young Roddy - Cookin Up lyrics

rate me

Good Sense, Good Sense

Good Sense, Good Sense

That money all on my mind bitch, that money all on my mind

I'm squeemin' on my plot, they say my first verse was grind

I'm hired up I can't hear shit,

When I puffin on that loud, I'm rapping that south side

with all them cause up nothing but lean up in my cup,

cupping all guns under my cuffin and my grind moe for a while

on this paper chase f*ck miles,

you'll gonna find me in that cut where they cookin up,

find me in that cut where they h,

Here follow fells is back to hustling,

her skato kid, say no stranger to the struggle,

a educated brother who flaunt dummy,

I stay blunted, you can smell it on my rugby,

like Jizzy I don't know them niggas nothing,

Not a dime, not a penny, if is f*ck me then f*ck you,

chasing that paper trying to dodge the motherf*ckers,

see such a lady but a freaking them covers,

I'm staring at that real through my rolly,

Oh, I come a long way from flipping yola,

got them rap nervous I'm focused,

Shit, I'm a spot in no in a soldier,

I'm a better safety than sorry roap with my toaster,

I like my cool late sweet and my bread toasted

A hood nigga if you ever see one,

A street nigga for life yeah I be one.

Auu, yeah but that there, what that there,

Bitch but what that there, what that there

Bitch but what that there, what that there

Good Sense II,

Bitch but what that there, what that there

Bitch but what that there, what that there

Bitch but what that there, what that there

Good Sense II.