Moemaw Naedon - Cookin' Again

Black cat cross path all day
But I still be above where the asphalts paved
Strut by trynna' keep my back up straight
Send love to my neighbor tip my hat then I wave
Played a one string bass with the meat held tight
By a crow from a possum underneath a street light
My triangle point South East and West
Not North where it's ice and the cold means death
I'm by no means underground I'm over your head
Might of read my credentials but don't know where I've been
I'm in your scopes and you loathing seeing me in motion
Sup' bro? You swole? Take Ibuprofen
While I be hoping for the greater good
Of course hater would throw more shade than the woods
They say don't shake so I shook it up twice
If the pay's real good Imma' cook it up nice
You can look it up twice definition don't budge
Im from where the methadone flow like blood
Wonder whats my age? here, I'm this old
I used to clip on a pager to my triple five souls
You could sit and wait or you could live and take control
You should tip a waiter if he gives you extra rolls
Not that fake fresh underneath heat lights
Them real baked goods up cooked up real nice
Know my left from my right man shut that beak
Cant stand a motherfucker driving from the backseat
Especially if you on my ship for the conquest
You know the rules bitch driver get the armrest
You like a bomb threat, usually a hoax
Like a promise offered to you to be dope
Its impossible you not in tune with the glow
That the universe throw at your bones for a soul
You could hose that hole where the lava churn out
But the heat too deep you got steam burns now
Learned how to adapt like chameleon skin
But outside can't reflect what I'm feeling within
I make shit that I like not shit to fit in
If you a real one put it on and give it a spin
Im reeling it in like hooked a fish on a swim
I cut a finger on a fin so I put it back in
I'm looking for friends that aint trynna' look at my ends
Rather share the same view lets look in the lens
You shouldn't offend the chef cooking in the kitchen
So if you don't like the food then you should pretend
If you want the whole story then read to the end
The Lost Boyz screamed about Jeeps, Beamers and Benz
Scheming to win without negatively effecting
My peeps and my kin sorry that I'm being distant
I got a lot to do with less time for wasting
Brought the pot for the stew get in line for tasting
If you facing the front door like Main Source
Turn around and sit down while serve the main course
When I was growing up all I did was skateboard
Now I do it twice a year and say that I should skate more
I want what I adore to be what I get paid for
And to tour so much that I say I hate tours
Wish I made more money or maybe saved more
But I bet I had a better run then all you lame dorks
Stick a fork in it aint done
Wipe my hands on your apron
Life's short so I make fun
Spend more than I make, son
Can't take it to my grave
Matter of fact don't want a grave dug
Made and beat and I'm toying with it enjoying this shit
Frogs go boing and ribbit
I'm drunker than fuck, saw the beer and drunk it all up
Then I locked my own keys in the trunk of the trunk
A blessing in disguise same time cop rolled up
Hit the Uber for the ride and I spent my last buck like what
Like what! cop rolled up hit the Uber for the ride and I spent my last buck like what
Cookin again we cookin' again
Cookin' again cookin' again
Cookin' again cookin' again
Cookin again we cookin' again
Cookin again we cookin' again
Cookin again we cookin' again
Cookin again we cookin' again
Cookin again we cookin' again
Moemaw yeah he cookin' again
Prospek yeah he coookin' again
Soul Slime yeah we cookin' again
GPC cookin' again
Cookin' again cookin again
Cookin again we cookin' again

Written by:
Ryan Macomber

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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