Stove God Cooks - Draymond lyrics

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Stove God Cooks - Draymond lyrics

[Intro: Rome Streetz] Uh-huh, ayo, ayo Ayo, check, ayo [Verse 1: Rome Streetz] With the right, I shake a millionaire's hand, with the left, I serve a junkie Walked the line, a lavish life of crime, remember them times I had a bunkie on the tear, now my signature a souvenir (Haha) b*tches wanna hang, bringin' me neck like I got nooses near (Uh) My sh*t is hypnotic, when I spit it, they got stupid stares (Yeah, yeah) Bought they lies quickly and minimize when the truth appear They say this sh*t a gamblе, you live your life in casinos (What) Death is at thе door, I shoot the reaper through the peep hole (Brrah, brrah, brrah) I see no equal, I play the game on hard, dont need no cheat code (Nah) It's easier to scam then flip a kilo (Yeah) Dirt all over the C-notes, keep the clean stack separate (Uh-uh) For the record, I'm reckless, sh*t, natural scrap is effortless (Yeah) Made the murder sh*t like a 38 specialist, what's special is I heard your new sh*t, I'm less than impressed with it (sh*t trash) All the fools under my shoe, I'm settin' the precedent They overdose, it's fentanyl in the pills when they pressin' it [Verse 2: Westside Gunn] Ayo, I had to spear the cocaine pot like Roman Reigns (Ah) Don't get your chain popped, you know the name You light as a raindrop, I'm on Biscayne, Rolls Royce, no top before the fame (Skrrt) Two hundred with factory diamonds, three hundred for the plain (Ah) You can never compare Your sh*t wouldn't add up, my mathematics is rare Bob Backlund and Flair, MAC clappin', beware (Brr, brr, brr) Trash bag with the potatoes in the front, no air (Doot doot doot doot doot doot) We praisin' both, after every body, we raise a toast To the one they hate the most, word to Allah, got the Wraith and Ghost My shooter had to sniff an eighth of coke to cope sh*t hurt when you gotta put your family in the scope (Doot doot doot doot doot doot doot doot doot doot) [Verse 3: Stove God Cooks] I had to pray over the work (We had to pray over the bricks) We was drownin' in that water whip, ni**as had to surf (Yeah) To a kilo from the dirt (God) Runnin' from the RICO, I still had perico on my shirt Eleven hundred for an ounce, twenty thousand for a verse, chopper made his shoulder jerk Smell of money in the air on the fifteenth and the first That bein' broke sh*t was a curse, I done killed your favorite rapper Got a body in the trunk, we bangin' Esco in the hearse (We bangin' Esco in the hearse) She got the TEC inside the purse, the big Telfar, I used to sell hard The Bally belt on, the yayo god Used to owe the plug, I just pay him off It's what you do after the brick, b*tch, I'm Draymond