Cookin' Up

Cookin’ Up
Cookin' Up Lyrics

Song Cookin’ Up
Artist Cam'ron
Album Crime Pays
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[Verse 1: Cam'Ron] red slippers, red robe, red kitchen, red stove red pots, one in the head cocked, the one the feds probe red stools, red inf, red floors, you're all fakers red couch, red crystal, red pepper & salt shakers the red room, red curtains, & some'll squint show some respect, what you expect - thats a hundred inch telescopes, binoculars, the feds hate my vernacular from selling coke i'm proper dockted that means i'm spectacular they bitin' like
Tyson, worst than that
Dracula your moms buy heron, with no hands i'm smackin' her let me make it plain, since
Dana Dane,
I made it rain now in the strip club, the bengies turn to paper planes i'm
Killa, you
Andre Miller - got a basic game
I told ya b***h to hurry up, we dont wait for trains i'm
Derek Jeter, because i'm in between the base my mane & thats on
Lenox, 7th for 8th, eighths of cain silencers on caliburs, but do it louder bruh sledge hammer, smash his mellon - i'm the black
Gallagher you know
I dump mine, on fake niggas, one time wack bitches, rap snitches, my lifes a punchline huh
I spend a grip in bars, diamond studdard, vicious cars the hoes, ask
Joe - we audition ours
I hope you make the cut, pop ya puss, move ya butt rugga up, think we from
Houston, we done screw her up [Chorus x2]
We pitchin', we pitchin', friction from mission to mission
Block to block, ave. to ave., from kitchen to
Kitchen We just cookin' baby, we just cookin up
We just cookin' up homie, we just cookin' up [Verse 2: Cam'Ron]
You the soda bottle huh, i'm twisting ya' cap and i'm luxury girl, come sit on my lap her friends like "dont go that s**t is a trap he'll have you traficking, swallowing, s**ttin' smack" they pigeons in fact, how you gon' listen to that you the flyest one in ya' crew them bitches is wack start at the smile,
I knew that the shit was a wrap her friends were right though, she gon' be pitching some crack i'm a true champ, you glance, four door, two tramps fuck my money, honey, bring ya' foodstamps go 'head you dance, an elephant to you ants chain -
Alaska, bracelet - nebraska crib - well disaster, forty two plasmas royal blue
Maury's, shortie you bastard only thing
I dont know, what resort we in
I tell a bitch "get over here" like
Scorpion cars, order in flavors, you order from
Avis? come around me, why, they know my aura contagious and i'm sorta courages, plus the kids smart forget
Biz Mark, he gon' catch more than the vapors next door at ya' neighbors, they said all of you haters set ya' up the very moment
I offered them paper and the law from the mayor, and my kicks? the
University
Of Florida, of course that they gator [Repeat chorus]
Cookin’ Up Cookin' Up Lyrics

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