Stove God Cooks
Pot of Gold
[Verse 1: Evidence]
Uh, why you holding grudges
[?] screaming to impress the judges
Save your image in public
Behind the scene you getting reprimanded
You was the most up-and-coming, nothing's coming of it
That I don't covet
Rather play the master than the puppet
[?] life I put the bun up in the oven
And walk away from love like David Ruffin
Back again like [?] walking on the helicopter padding
And no work if we ain't taking budgets
Tough crowd but I'm cut from it
Can't stand you but there's nothing that I can't stomach
I'm a brand that you can't trust it's tough loving
Get used to me, how I used to be, but got enough coming
I change the attitude, LA from the beach to the avenues
Gradual became all of a sudden
All of them fronting the future in it
The rules infinite, the one who never knew no limits
[Verse 2: Boldy James]
A n***a touch my brother Ev, imma bust his head
Heard him talking choppy on the net, [?]
When n***as seen us in public it was nothing said
[?] in his kit looking like an undercover fed
These laws brag, god bless my little brother Ced
Still on the [?] and that 500 running red
Lining up all these pops caught a hunnid heads
Made 20 thousand off top, that's a butter spread
Then get the baking man dropped how much I love the bread
You know my youngin caught a opp, you seen him cut his dreads
Blew 80 bands on the watch, I got it from the [?]
Told her see if she can make me pop cause I don't come from here
Bragging to her homegirls, calling it another leg
Friends jumped out the shower, your bitch begging me to come to bed
Told me how she always had dreams of fucking celebs
But I was thinking shit her homegirl come instead
[Verse 3: The Alchemist]
Serve the custies, armpits musty
Dirt under my fingernail my shirt is dusty
Your face will be leaking out blood and pus
I draw on it with a razor when it's rusty
Bird shrubbery leave my chain very nuggety
I'm merging in your lane very subtley
Why you cooking the filet till it's rubbery
I only sip the chardonnay when it's bubbly
Uh, muchacho malo, let's celebrate your death day and pop a bottle
[?], might put a hex on you with a chicken like Papa Shango
Big chain, skeleton bones dangling while I'm mingling
Now let's watch a flick by John Singleton (Rest in peace)
[Verse 4: Stove God Cooks]
Uh
They shoulda [?] a platinum in a pot of gold
They lied and said the king of rock was gone
I ain't died I'm still here in all my glory dancing on the stove
Mink coat in all my gold I raise the price on my soul
You can't afford the kind of excellence I'm pissing, I'm different
Plastic on the floor I just got done ripping [?]
My bank account singing like Minnie Ripperton
All high notes, is you listening?
You fuck me once bitch, you was just auditioning
Sprinkle holy water on the brick, we had a kilo Christmas
I'm really fishing with the wrist, we was running through like a brick a hour
Supreme duffel bag at the ticket counter
You broke bum n***as ain't worth a bullet, my shooter hit the n***as 'round em
And make 'em live through it
You just talking the shit I been doing
I had the 550 Benz moving when Olajuwon was still in Houston
Buy every one of 'em, I might as well
I was praying for direction and the signs fell
Caught me three days later said the white was funny
I said you trippin, I never seen a episode of Seinfeld
That shit ain't diss, them n***as minimal
I heard the album, typical
Bitch my wrist is gold, I'm Ibaka on the pick-and-roll
I make sure the bricks step in, I push the envelope