"Pistols & Pastries" lyrics
GASHI & JIMI BANKS Lyrics
Fuck you if you don't like me
Fuck you if you wish ill will on me
Fuck you if you didn't think I could do it
Fuck you if you owe me money
Fuck you if you ever lied to me
The moral of this is
Fuck you bitch
I ain't a killer but don't push me
Chrome to your dome now you wetter than a pussy
They see me in the ghost turn these haters into Whoopie
I'm getting mad cream and my bitch could make a fortune off her cookie
Rolex Cellini with my nephew Dini
Saint Ambrose for the eats Italian bitches feed me
Parked the cherry beamie in the front you corn balls see me
Cutlery fold it neatly in case I get you bleeding
Uh I ain't competing bitch I'm stampeding
Pop ya cherry on a Sunday everybody leaking
Uh I play the corner like the Derrel Revis
We throwing bullets at his wig now everybody weaving
My phone buzzing opportunities on rotation
I respond with two words send confirmation
You boys should've signed with EM cause you all shady
Like that skateboard trick man you all fakie
Contracts thicker than tires on my Mercedes
Gave her the keys to the Rari cause she drive me crazy
I'm too handsome to be lonely got my pistols and pastries
For those who hate me I send them up to the one that made me
I'm in my 80s drop chillin' with a baby Glock
Cocaine in my lady's sock right hand on a pastry box
Came from a crazy block the hate is what made me hot
Told me I was destined to fail but I went and changed the plot
I got the suite on the highest floors the art of silence learn to talk Lesson be quiet more
Vintage media Rollie is worn by a dinosaur made her vingina soar
I'm a sex connoisseur come and see me on tour
Pistols and pastries headshots say cheese
I'm trigger happy Nina Ross she been my main squeeze
Chain stay freeze different colored APs
Jimi Banks the pastor couldn't even save me
Quit playing please I've been what the game needs
Tryna act tough will get you cut like you ain't make the team
Nigga faking streams things ain't what it seem
Why should I fear another man when these nigga bleed?
Check the scorecard I call my chopper Vince Carter
When I dump it cause I shoot the shit with one arm
I give you nigga one star
Don't tell me how you couldn't get the job done
When you only had one job
Sir Banks I'm a Don
Tip the concierge he hold my luggage
A lot of Goyard and Louboutin
I throw the keys to my car
I'm too bougie for Buddakan
I make a movie while the movie's on
She sing the words to my song
She turn playboy bunny
Once she seen how many carrots running through my charm
My picture's like a Warhol placed on your halls wall
Uh
I bring chopsticks to Hong Kong
Cigar burn slow prime steak and merlot
Mink fur robe the things I touch turn to gold
I take the girls home I bought them all fur coats
I seen a priest hop in a phantom once the church closed
I'd rather die enormous than to live dormant
Fine dine at Al Coro man that's how we on it
At the main event I bet a trip to Maui on it
I make the work stretch like waking up in the morning
I'm in this suite alone a long way from being home
Italian marble chef cooking on a heated stove
Gold ceilings luxury weeps through my bones
The crown's already sewn I tell them long live the throne
Chromes to your dome champagne in my chromosomes
Couldn't find this flow with Google Chrome
This bitch playing with her nose
Couldn't shovel all this snow you'd think Santa's home
The way I'm playing with these hoes
The best with the bars
Don't step to a don
This chick on my arm
Draped in Alexis Bittar
I'm blessed by the gods
Healed by the flesh of my scars
I came in with the bands like electric guitars
Yo I'm going corporate cops trying to use me as a target
They tryna frame me and the bros like a family portrait
Pistols and pastries that's cannolis with the chocolate
Bullets bleed your bakery you best proceed with caution
Your fucking sweetheart going around here acting like you wild
You're not wild nigga your daddy was wild
You're a fucking rapper like you said nigga
You from a street place
You're up street X's
Everybody on the block is from the street
Even a little nigga sitting on the porch
That's just watching a nigga trap
Technically he's from the block
Even a nigga that's just walking down the street
Going to school
Technically he's from the block because he live here
You just a nigga that was on the block
Act like that my nigga for real
Y'all nigga in spirit of talking all this
That you got shot you would've died dummy
You would've died you don't even know how to act
In that type of situation
You don't know you don't
You don't got that type of instinct at all
Have a fucking shot supply that nigga
Dumb that nigga tried to kill me nigga
The fuck you talking about
The fuck you you sound stupid
I would never talk about nigga getting shot
You're a fucking dweeb
Fuck you if you wish ill will on me
Fuck you if you didn't think I could do it
Fuck you if you owe me money
Fuck you if you ever lied to me
The moral of this is
Fuck you bitch
I ain't a killer but don't push me
Chrome to your dome now you wetter than a pussy
They see me in the ghost turn these haters into Whoopie
I'm getting mad cream and my bitch could make a fortune off her cookie
Rolex Cellini with my nephew Dini
Saint Ambrose for the eats Italian bitches feed me
Parked the cherry beamie in the front you corn balls see me
Cutlery fold it neatly in case I get you bleeding
Uh I ain't competing bitch I'm stampeding
Pop ya cherry on a Sunday everybody leaking
Uh I play the corner like the Derrel Revis
We throwing bullets at his wig now everybody weaving
My phone buzzing opportunities on rotation
I respond with two words send confirmation
You boys should've signed with EM cause you all shady
Like that skateboard trick man you all fakie
Contracts thicker than tires on my Mercedes
Gave her the keys to the Rari cause she drive me crazy
I'm too handsome to be lonely got my pistols and pastries
For those who hate me I send them up to the one that made me
I'm in my 80s drop chillin' with a baby Glock
Cocaine in my lady's sock right hand on a pastry box
Came from a crazy block the hate is what made me hot
Told me I was destined to fail but I went and changed the plot
I got the suite on the highest floors the art of silence learn to talk Lesson be quiet more
Vintage media Rollie is worn by a dinosaur made her vingina soar
I'm a sex connoisseur come and see me on tour
Pistols and pastries headshots say cheese
I'm trigger happy Nina Ross she been my main squeeze
Chain stay freeze different colored APs
Jimi Banks the pastor couldn't even save me
Quit playing please I've been what the game needs
Tryna act tough will get you cut like you ain't make the team
Nigga faking streams things ain't what it seem
Why should I fear another man when these nigga bleed?
Check the scorecard I call my chopper Vince Carter
When I dump it cause I shoot the shit with one arm
I give you nigga one star
Don't tell me how you couldn't get the job done
When you only had one job
Sir Banks I'm a Don
Tip the concierge he hold my luggage
A lot of Goyard and Louboutin
I throw the keys to my car
I'm too bougie for Buddakan
I make a movie while the movie's on
She sing the words to my song
She turn playboy bunny
Once she seen how many carrots running through my charm
My picture's like a Warhol placed on your halls wall
Uh
I bring chopsticks to Hong Kong
Cigar burn slow prime steak and merlot
Mink fur robe the things I touch turn to gold
I take the girls home I bought them all fur coats
I seen a priest hop in a phantom once the church closed
I'd rather die enormous than to live dormant
Fine dine at Al Coro man that's how we on it
At the main event I bet a trip to Maui on it
I make the work stretch like waking up in the morning
I'm in this suite alone a long way from being home
Italian marble chef cooking on a heated stove
Gold ceilings luxury weeps through my bones
The crown's already sewn I tell them long live the throne
Chromes to your dome champagne in my chromosomes
Couldn't find this flow with Google Chrome
This bitch playing with her nose
Couldn't shovel all this snow you'd think Santa's home
The way I'm playing with these hoes
The best with the bars
Don't step to a don
This chick on my arm
Draped in Alexis Bittar
I'm blessed by the gods
Healed by the flesh of my scars
I came in with the bands like electric guitars
Yo I'm going corporate cops trying to use me as a target
They tryna frame me and the bros like a family portrait
Pistols and pastries that's cannolis with the chocolate
Bullets bleed your bakery you best proceed with caution
Your fucking sweetheart going around here acting like you wild
You're not wild nigga your daddy was wild
You're a fucking rapper like you said nigga
You from a street place
You're up street X's
Everybody on the block is from the street
Even a little nigga sitting on the porch
That's just watching a nigga trap
Technically he's from the block
Even a nigga that's just walking down the street
Going to school
Technically he's from the block because he live here
You just a nigga that was on the block
Act like that my nigga for real
Y'all nigga in spirit of talking all this
That you got shot you would've died dummy
You would've died you don't even know how to act
In that type of situation
You don't know you don't
You don't got that type of instinct at all
Have a fucking shot supply that nigga
Dumb that nigga tried to kill me nigga
The fuck you talking about
The fuck you you sound stupid
I would never talk about nigga getting shot
You're a fucking dweeb
