Cookin Soul - Holeman & Finch lyrics

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Cookin Soul - Holeman & Finch lyrics

[Verse 1: Curtis Williams] Box logos no V-necks, I'm twisting my fingers Your b**h wanna f** and she tells me she need it Break it down, roll it up Then I take blunts to the face to the point I get [?] Percocets, xanax and aderall, I got pill problems Ma need a crib, big bro got a kid My dad need a car, got real problems Uh, drink until I can't think my boy p**y wet, I might sink, oh Lord Old hoes, we 'on't talk no more Got a check and went and bought out the store We 'on't shop at the malls Pissy drunk, I might stumble and fall Name on my phone but I probably won't call Probably won't call [Verse 2: OG Maco] Yeah, I used to have Xanax waves Hustle in a daze Percocet poppin' on the way to make the play High tech activist just activate my lane Ol' girl b**hin' bout' my new girl gettin' thangs It's like big face hundreds to give my small faces dreams Gapped tooth youngin's wearin' big brother jeans Big brother watchin' twelve plottin' on the team 9 after 2 on the block them shots ring Two 9s on me, 60 rounds in my jeans Every 60 seconds new block, different scheme My father art in heaven know it's hell to live serene To my father I'm indebted cause he taught me how to dream b**h

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