King Cris - Stuffing (feat. Izaguirre)

Coldest nigga living in the desert
Someone tell me how that's even possible
She got big booty and the thick lips
She a red-head, Kim Possible
If you want the smoke, hit my line
Call me, cinch me, niggas want to be me
Trust me, I know it look easy
Dripping in yellow, it's too lemon squeezy
Okay, my fault, that was cheesy
Come with me, I'mma tell you a tale
When niggas was drowning in whiskey and ale
I don't do gimmicks for sale
All of your new shit is stale
Throw you out like you spoiled milk
She ride the boy with a slight tilt
I'm in the kitchen with a butter knife cutting niggas down
Man, it takes skill
C'mon now quit overdoing this nigga
You've been on the gram for a day straight
Never had to show them that my life great
Cause I'm always doing shit at my pace
Look at my face
I have been hungry since I put the pen on the pad
On the desk in the room
In the house with my parents
Consistently killing them without a trace
Y'all niggas all into nothin
I'm not with the struggling
We grubbing
Bitches love sweets so I stand in the bakery, whipping up shit for the function
My brothers breaded like stuffing
Quit all that huffing and puffing
Tried to tell y'all I was ready from jump and this time I'm not stopping for nothing
Let it burn
Some of y'all get no play but do not complain
You were not invited to eat with us
Flee from the scene baby get out the way
We cannot offer seat
Table is full we got plenty to eat
Momma said sharing is caring but really it's harder to give out when I don't receive
But really
Some of you bitches I see through only want me
Nice and slow
Sorry you coming over just to suck on a bone
But I got nobody's time
I am not playing no games
Do not sit at the table if you only sipping on wine
Got me up and down like I'm off and on
Got me heavy when you talk about bread
Like we sitting at the Olive Garden
We don't give it like that
We an oligarch
Kick shit when we want to
You don't need to be sitting in this bitch
Take your ass off the table, lil bae
Understand we don't need you
Go back to sitting at home
We do not want to be eating with you
Watch us pass by
Cause we bouta blow up like a land mine
Got the heaters in the vault they on standby
Throw smoke bout my numbers they be mad high
But
Izzy been missing of late
Keep on my shirt if you know where I be
Bitch
I don't got no more to say
Pick up the pieces next year you gon see
Bitch
Y'all niggas all into nothin
I'm not with the struggling
We grubbing
Bitches love sweets so I stand in the bakery, whipping up shit for the function
My brothers breaded like stuffing
Quit all that huffing and puffing
Tried to tell y'all I was ready from jump and this time I'm not stopping for nothing
Let it burn

Written by:
Cristopher Lewis, Jose Izaguirre

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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