DJ Khaled

DJ Khaled - Hells Kitchen lyrics

Your rating:
Cold war, cold war, cold war

DJ Khaled



[J.Cole]

Yeah, back from the dead

Like Michael Jackson in red jackets, with naps in my head

Who's white or black, it's a rare package

Get smacked if you said, I'm neck and neck with these square rappers

My guest room's got plantiunm plaques, and an air mattress

No time for furniture shoppping, too bussy burning you

Watching you, learning you

Word to Pac

I'm plotting to murder you

Should of thought and occured to you

My next album flop, then I'm goin pop, like Nelly

With tops dropped on convertible, Porsches

Born Sinner, not burning no crosses

Might burn a couple bridges, I'm losing by double digits

I gotta do somethin'

Fightin' depression I'm trying my n*gga

But everytime I think about it I'm cryin' my n*gga

Cried myself to sleep on thousand dollar sheets

I reak of the scent of a vendetta that's deep

I'm playing for keeps, but you ain't think I'd bounce back

They love to hear black n*gga count stacks, count stacks



Forty thousand in my pocket you see it

Another twenty on the way you see it

I got a fish for a dollar you see it

Five hundred for the Js you see it

I get money out the ass you see it

I thought I'd never see the day you see it

They put a price on my head you see it

But they don't ever have to pay you see it

I fell down on my knees and yeah I prayed

Cause heaven seems a million miles away

I dreamed of all the things that I would say

On that day

But for now I'm cooking up in hells kitchen, hells kitchen

N*gga f*ck you and your fake well wishing

Now get out of hells kitchen, hells kitchen

Tell my story I'm just hopin' they'll listen

Cooking up in hells kitchen, hells kitchen


N*gga f*ck you and your fake well wishing

I get out of hells kitchen, hells kitchen, one day



[Bas]

Yeah, omission's usually, an admission to guilt

Hari Kari yourself, all the way to the hilt

You get nothin', no love

Zip, zero, zilch

We don't mention you lames, man I be pleadin' the fifth

There's a Judas in every crew, concealing the kiss

Kiss of death, let's put the rest all to tedious bits

F*ck sake you n*igga seminate a feminate trate

B*tch n*gga when could never relate

Nah, cause man you n*ggas is birds

You learn that at bird school, or somethin'

You eaten that bird food, or somethin'

You sick with that bird flu, or somethin'

That's my word, cause every where I turn

When folks I known for years, that couldn't pronounce my name

And asking me for pics, there's something bout this game

It's somethin' for the b*tches, it's somethin' for the b*tches



Forty thousand in my pocket you see it

Another twenty on the way you see it

I got a fish for a dollar you see it

Five hundred for the Js you see it

I get money out the ass you see it

I thought I'd never see the day you see it

They put a price on my head you see it

But they don't ever have to pay you see it

I fell down on my knees and yeah I prayed

Cause heaven seems a million miles away

I dreamed of all the things that I would say

On that day

But for now I'm cooking up in hells kitchen, hells kitchen

N*gga f*ck you and your fake well wishing

Now get out of hells kitchen, hells kitchen

Tell my story I'm just hopin' they'll listen

Cooking up in hells kitchen, hells kitchen

N*gga f*ck you and your fake well wishing

I get out of hells kitchen, hells kitchen, one day


Get this song at:
bol.com
amazon.com

Copyrights:

Author: ?

Composer: ?

Publisher: ?

Details:

Language: English

Share your thoughts

This form is protected by reCAPTCHA and the Google Privacy Policy and Terms of Service apply.

0 Comments found