Текст песни Jose Canseco (feat. Stove God Cooks) - Westside Gunn , Stove God Cooks

Ayo, the marvelous, the gorgeous
Twin Porsches, the exalted
The archer, Prada parka with the shotgun
Every time the wind blow, I wanna pop somethin′
You never shot nothin', imagine my vision
I had the Lindenfelds tinted, Pérignon washin′ my Hells Chicken
Over stoves, ambitions
I'm from the same streets as bust-a-brick Nick and this wrist ridiculous
15 hundred on them kicks and them shits feo
Cocaine mayo jar, Jose Canseco

Jose Canseco
Jose Canseco
Jose Canseco
Jose Canseco

Born a god, rockin' Human Made
Double up to a Geiger
Sharpshooter aim, my third house in my cougar name
My lil′ niggas still shoot for fame
Moms don′t work, pops skated
You don't know the pain
Heron Preston rain jumper, don′t know the rain
What we do for stain, Pyrex souvenirs, maneuver 'caine
Kerry James in the dope spot
Handed purple tops out the door knob

In a Tesla swervin′
Talkin' to my man, he said the last batch that came in was worthless
I told him, nah, when it cook like that is just a bit of a burden
Just drop the price a couple points and keep servin′
Red velvet Louis jacket, I'm Ron Burgundy
See the heat comin' off the hundreds, the money burnin′
These labels still jerkin′

I heard your deal came with a hundred thousand and some Jergens
These fake boss niggas is really workers
I follow the bricks, I seen the wizard behind the curtain
They talk big 'till we catch ′em in person
They talk big 'till we shoot they Suburban
Me and Emeril Lagasse should be the next Verzuz

Two stoves side by side, I bet I work him
I turned my granddaddy church parkin′ lot into a Church's Chicken
Take the brains out, let the head hand like Mr. Perfect′s shit
They owe some streaming money, but I ain't hurtin'
I told my young nigga how much, he said, I woulda murked ′em
Big homie fresh home drinkin′ coffee out the Keurig
A 144 months ain't break his spirit

He jumped back in, I told him it′s different, I tried to prepare him
He good, he a old, brave nigga, he Hank Aaron
Forgiatos on the McLaren
Young, rich, and arrogant, is you hearin' this
Over the stove, bangin′ Pray for Paris
I think the UFOs dropped the top blocks on the pyramids

There's a method to the madness, everything is mapped
You know you kill the foundation, everything collapse
Everything is stamped, everything is wrapped
If the feds ask you ′bout me, tell 'em everything is cap

Jose Canseco
Jose Canseco
This that up three, Burton state flow
Jose Canseco
Young nigga out the GT with the Draco
Jose Canseco

For them to think that they could be in the same ring with me is
Wow, you know that, unbelievable
Don't put words in my mouth, man, I can handle myself out here
Yeah, but I won′t, no, no, no
That′s a shoot, brother, that is one thousand percent, yeah
'Cause the time has come