Tag: Phil Jackson


Zaytoven, Quavo & 2 Chainz – Wake Up & Cook Up




[Intro: Quavo]
Yeah
Trap [?]
Migos

[Chorus: Quavo]
Wake up and cook up
Wake up and cook up
Wake up and cook up
Wake up and cook up
Wake up and cook up
Wake up and cook up
Wake up and cook up
Wake up and cook up
Gotta put my fist in that bowl
Them niggas is so small, we call ’em tadpoles
You wake up and cook up
Wake up and cook up
Wake up and cook up
Wake up and cook up

[Verse 1: Quavo]
I got a (What you got Qua?)
Appointment set up with your bae
I got a bitch from the Bay
I got a truck out your bay
She telling me give her a taste
I put that dick on her face
I put that dick on her face
Yeah, like mace
Pull up and I set up shop
She drinking that shit by the shots
Stunt on the block, same spot
Pull up and cannot deny
Niggas out here straight [?]
If you hanging with a group of guys
Better make sure they gon’ ride
I pull up like ¿cómo estás?
None of your traps exist, nigga
Selling that snort to your bitch, nigga
That ain’t making my dick bigger
Count it up and drop it on that fist, nigga
Look at your unc with that itch
Pop that, a nigga won’t twitch
[?] They gon’ say "I ain’t said that shit man"

[Chorus: Quavo]
Wake up and cook up
Wake up and cook up
Wake up and cook up
Wake up and cook up
Wake up and cook up
Wake up and cook up
Wake up and cook up
Wake up and cook up
Gotta put my fist in that bowl
Them niggas is so small, we call ’em tadpoles
You wake up and cook up
Wake up and cook up
Wake up and cook up
Wake up and cook up

[Verse 2: 2 Chainz]
30 rounds and the clip clear
Make you and the Drako french kiss
Can’t stand a dirty kitchen
Broke up with my mistress
Took the fork and I bent it
Had a Panamera on [?]
[?] and she pretty
Still a heart away like [?]
Skrrt, yeah, that is the sound
I’m scraping the bowl
[?], I ain’t got kids
I gotta make it back home
One phonecall’ll get you killed
I ain’t even gotta scroll
Had apartment with no furniture
But at least I had a stove
Turned [?] to whitewater
’bout to get this splash on
Other day I walked into Gucci
Told them folks that I’m back home
Got the city on my backbone
Black on like [?]
Money calling, check the ringtone
Phil Jackson with the rings on
Yeah

[Chorus: Quavo]
Wake up and cook up
Wake up and cook up
Wake up and cook up
Wake up and cook up
Wake up and cook up
Wake up and cook up
Wake up and cook up
Wake up and cook up
Gotta put my fist in that bowl
Them niggas is so small, we call ’em tadpoles
You wake up and cook up
Wake up and cook up
Wake up and cook up
Wake up and cook up




Vic Mensa – Rage Lyrics




(Intro)
Command, we’ve lost control
The engine’s bound to crash
The lightning strikes went bright
Do not go gently
It’s just my luck
You shot my bluff down from a thousand miles
I’m falling fast
I’m falling fast

(Chorus)
I want you to rage into the night
I want you to blaze into the light
Before your final flight
But boy, you’re fine, you’re fine
I want you to rage into the night
I want you to know, know you’re right
Before your final flight
Racing, racing, red eyes are burning rogue

(Verse 1)
I always wondered whether leaving meant something deeper than freedom
To be able to see everything I see when I’m sleeping
Ni**as waking up with no job, no mob lynching, we still hanging
White man telling ni**as to ball like Phil Jackson
Pray to Jordan, the play was enough to put up the bail
And a train don’t stop
And we ain’t have to ride the rails
Gas in the tank, hardly enough to make it home
They say home is where the hate is
I’m from where they kill their own
Probably film it on their phone, a generation addicted
To take knowledge and problems we face, and so conflicted
To take the burning road and just roll with the punches
Ni**as thought I was gone, I Derrick Rose from the trenches
Same fences we jumped as a shawty still in the way
Sometimes I wish I could fly far, far away
Where my sins fall down like pouring rain
I’m on slip my knot, hope I don’t fall again
Standing on my feet, I feel so small to look into space
It’s heavy just to stare up there and wonder what waits
So much we still don’t understand, still right in front of our face
I light a match, for the jets

(Chorus)
I want you to rage into the night
I want you to blaze into the light
Before your final flight
Before your final flight
But boy, you’re fine, you’re fine
I want you to rage into the night
I want you to know, know you’re right
Before your final flight
Before your final flight
Racing, racing, red eyes are burning rogue

(Bridge)
Riding a burning road
Running low, not a soul who could know
It’s every man who swept the burning ashes from the road

(Verse 2)
I put the halloween pistol out the trunk
Inside my mouth, if it was real, but I would dunk
That’s f**king done
How many thousand of kids would like to have mine?
Without a clue of the times I gave my life to have time
I’m tired of waiting
Tired of chasing pills that I’m tired of taking
Tired of court cases, tired of judges
Tired of saying f**k it
Tired of balling around the president, deciding this s**ts a gift
Two shots to life, only got one to live
You could lose it any night
Or down it in a fit
Or win a championship game
As a man I feel pain
As a king, I feel reign
Ask me how I deal with fame
As I write you from my basement
The cards ain’t changed yet
Ni**as on 47 still dealing the same shit
Rocks, blows, ducking cops and clothes
Came into the world naked, now I’m in all this BAPE shit
Tryna buy a Rolex, can’t even face time
I feel like it’s all wasted
The underground getting wasted
I spent 1500 on these bottles and this table
I shake it before I pop, I promise I’m not stable
But that boy do got horse power, ignore hours
These days I lose tracks of days, been years since I felt this way
Count on me to rage

(Outro)
Before the final flight
Before the final flight
I want you to rage
I want you to know, know you’re right


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