Fork in the Pot

Lyrics

Ridin round in a rarri all night with a gig Getting money, I went over and bought me a rollie I done had everything that I ever wanted I done fucked the baddest women Really it ain't nothing to me My nigga, I done fucked up check I rock that Maison Margiela Consistent designer that's on me, I'm different I got that work and I'm serving junkies I cook up them pies out my kitchen Skrt! That's the sound of the fork in the pot Urrrt! That's the sound of the dope when it's dry I got bout 51 flavors, niggas still owe me some favors I been round Meek and them chasers All of my youngins is takers Don't come off a hater Them 40s got lasers Nigga trash get bagged up Bobby Booshay for a bag bruh Bombastic telephone-tastic Four finga ring in a bullet in your outfit Put a nigga out quick, ice on the hot shit Choppa gotta roar like rah rah rah Dumb nigga pop shit, I ain't with the talkin Pull up on a pussy like oh my gawd Skrt! That's the sound of the fork in the pot That's the sound of the fork in the pot Whoa! That's the sound of the fork in the pot Whoa! That's the sound of dope when it's dry Fifty-one fifty, choppa unload They like got-damn nigga stop shootin' Time on my hand cost a whole lot of money You ain't saying nothing nigga, what you talkin' bout fooley? Wings on the back, and I'm flyer than a Pelican Nigga figure fuck and it's squarer than an element 223 kick the door I get intimate Fuck all that talkin' I came for the Benjamins 150 round, nigga lay down Catch em in the kitchen when you cookin up Nigga lay down, don't make a sound Choppa give a pussy nigga tummy tuck Skrt! Skrt! Skrt! Skrrrrrrrt! That's the sound of the fork in the pot Whoa! That's the sound of you niggas on flock I got the juice Flava flava Ferragamo Fire Marshall hotter than a ghost pedal 60K Ric Flair, foreign weather Leather soft on that Margiela Presidential painted rose gold Now I'm sitting on my old hoes I was making 10 bands Really cuttin' dope finessing with no doors