Lev Berlak - Fish Head Stew lyrics

[Verse 1] I'm a hutch-peeler with much scrilla and I love to get high, homie Shady character like Don King, so you better keep your eye on me I done bust n***as in the grill and had 'em wearin' partials Jacked high rollers and ran from the US Marshals It's called survival, and only the strong can survive And went the distance with the feds while some of my partners took a dive Strive to stay alive, can't let no n***a smother me Got to stay F-R-double-E and keep these b**hes lovin' me Sippin' bubbly, breakin' down buds from a fat sack Reservations at Crustaceans or Art's Crab Shack I stacks fat 'cause a macaroni gots to have cheese Puttin' pillows in cigarillos and Backwood leaves And I drinks Heem by the gallon, so sometimes I might trip Infrared beam with black talons and that extended clip Quick to do some sprayin', so n***a, watch what you sayin' You'll get your show cancelled like Keenan Ivory Wayans [Hook] I'm just a pimp, mayne, tryin to stack some funyuns So I can have French maids pedicure my bunions Oh, you ain't knowin', what is you, new? Yo hutch must be feedin' you fish head stew Fish head stew (Repeat 4X) [Verse 2] Mac Dre shake broke hoes with boatloads of kids Tell a b**h she can take a long walk off a short bridge And hope she land in shark-infested waters Heartless, takin' over turfs like Nino did the Carters Kidnapped by the Feds and treated like a s**er But now I'm free they see payback's a motherf**er I'm stickin' my dick in all they daughters and nieces Now CO's and PO's want me restin' in pieces Hittin' pieces so hard that it'll make your nose bleed And I been smokin' since n***as was on gold weed Born to be a player, rhyme-sayer and clock grits Strapped with two 23 spittin' chop sticks Quick to kick a b**h to the curb And get back with her on a 33rd I never worry, never worry, it's all copacetic Got mo' game than needed insulin in a diabetic [Hook] [Verse 3] I be fitted, dipped in bu*ter, hair cut like Kobe Blindin' hoes with science like Thomas Dolby Pullin' on black and milds, sippin' top-shelf Cuervo Playin' with my hutch hair while she lickin' on my navel Stable full of money-makin stallions Been in the feds with dreads from Jamaica and Italians Shrimp scampi eater, Peter long as the Love Boat Puffin purple kush at the building with my cuzzo Strapped, armed, ready, ain't nobody goosin' me Got Roll-Os hid in my load where the airbags used to be Boy, you should see how I act off the privilege Hennessy, it's like Popeye's spinach I'm ready to take heads off, gunplay or fight I dot eyes and have 'em wearin' they sungla**es at night Fool, that's real, that ain't no frontin' Them punk-a** n***as don't wanna see Dre about nothin' [Hook 2X]