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i-earn chef - how i feel lyrics
painstakingly quiet
the pot boils as i meet with my clients, and we speak without license
creep, so we eat in this climate
but this heat won’t stop rising
yo my peoples is pilots
h-lla baked, i delegate who is seemingly highest
my deeming unbiased, out to stack cream so the team move in silence
you ain’t got no license
you ain’t got no stylin’
wanna move that green, but you ain’t got those prices
slices of enemies add to the light of my legacy
plight of the density cracked
right on the left of me, “cheffery” tight when the recipe lacks
travel to 70’s half of me stays, a quarter gets high but the rest of me back
heavenly smacked
this is how i feel, its so surreal how chef could spit
the vividness is ill, i sh-t on tracks thats excrement
youtube me, google me
who knew me? who flew with me?
all the real spitters, all the real hittas, on the real missions for the jewelry
ladies man, sean connery
type of spitter that you wannabe, marijuana trees. who put your girl right on to me?
maybe you should ask her, so many have ran threw that thing that maybe you should tax her
try and make a come up, double that and shutup
dollasz wussup with the wussup?
can’t afford a cut, let alone a cup, counting change to get that lonely dutch
what the f-ck, my situation sucks, i need more chips than utz, i need more fifths and trucks
its ridiculous who do these b-tches l-st?
it’s how i feel, i’m just keepin’ it real, if you dont f-ck with the chef fall asleep at the wheel
if you f-ck with the rest, then your people i k!ll, half empty, half full, or is it equally filled?
it’s how i feel
we are not one in the same league, mainly, you cannot even rhyme vaguely, me i just k!ll them beats daily
namely, this one, open the rum and just sip some, open the pauly and piff one, open the ladies
i smoke and it’s hazy, my music to youth is like c0ke to the 80’s, devoted its crazy, i wrote in amazement so fall back
gettin’ two broads at once, my fans know what to call that
fifth grade watching all that, from an early age i wondered where it’s all at
at 17 discovered the mic, it’s all rap
scriptures release from my pen, pictures asleep in my head, carefully creep from the fed
pisces sun, eating his bread as retina is eerily red (ah)
im so focused, tryna get myself noticed, pulling strings violist, its farfetched i know this
my bars flex atrocious, flow carmex and lotion, i’m keepin’ em smooth, lightin’ em up as i’m peepin’ this doob
lighted as f-ck as i’m eating this food, i’ve met many women, none as equal to you
it’s how i feel baby i’m speaking the truth
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