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DJ Khaled feat. Bas & J. Cole - Hell's Kitchen

Texty amerických interpretov

21 Okt 2013, 17:37

    [Intro]
    Cole World... DJ Khaled!

    [Verse 1: J. Cole]
    Yeah, back from the dead
    Like Michael Jackson in red jackets, with naps in my head
    Who's white or black, it's a rare package
    Get smacked if you said that I'm neck and neck with these square rappers
    My guest room's got plantinum plaques, and an air mattress
    No time for furniture shopping, too busy burnin' you
    Watching you, learning you
    Word to Pac, I'm plottin' to murder you
    Sure the thought can occur to you
    My next album flop, then I'm goin pop, like Nelly
    With tops dropped on convertible Porsches
    Born Sinner, not burning no crosses
    Might burn a couple bridges, I'm losing by double digits
    I gotta do somethin'
    Fightin' depression I'm trying my nigga
    But everytime I think about it I'm cryin' my nigga
    Cried myself to sleep on thousand dollar sheets
    I reak of the scent of a vendetta that's deep
    I'm playing for keeps, but you ain't think I'd bounce back
    They love to hear black nigga count stacks, count stacks

    [Hook: J Cole]
    Forty thousand in my pocket (You see it)
    Another twenty on the way (You see it, ay)
    I got a fish for a dollar (You see it, uh)
    Five hundred for the Js (You see it, ay)
    I get money out the ass (You see it)
    I thought I'd never see the day (You see it, ay)
    They put a price on my head (You see it)
    But they don't ever have to pay (You see it, ay)
    I fell down on my knees and yeah I prayed
    Cause heaven seems a million miles away
    I dreamed of all the things that I would say
    On that day
    But for now I'm cooking up in hells kitchen, hells kitchen
    Nigga fuck you and your fake well wishing
    Now get out of hells kitchen, hells kitchen
    Tell my story I'm just hopin' they'll listen
    Cooking up in hells kitchen, hells kitchen
    Nigga fuck you and your fake well wishing
    I get out of hells kitchen, hells kitchen, one day, hey

    [Verse 2: Bas]
    Yeah
    Omission's usually, an admission to guilt
    Hari Kari yourself, all the way to the hilt
    You get nothin', no love
    Zip, zero, zilch
    We don't mention you lames, man I be pleadin' the fifth
    There's a Judas in every crew, concealed in a kiss
    Kiss of death, let's put the rest all to tedious bits
    Fucks sake you niggas emanate a feminines traits
    Bitch nigga when could never relate
    Nah, cause man you niggas is birds
    You learn that at bird school, or somethin'
    You eaten that bird food, or somethin'
    You sick with that bird flu, or somethin'
    That's my word, cause every where I turn
    When folks I known for years, that couldn't pronounce my name
    And asking me for pics, there's something bout this game
    It's somethin' for the bitches, it's somethin' for the bitches

    [Hook]
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