"Waffle House" lyrics
OSBS, HoodRich Pablo Juan & Desto Dubb Lyrics
(Glizzy, what you cookin' up?)
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Ayy, yeah, ayy, look
Fuck what they talkin' 'bout
Can't take advice from no nigga ain't had shit
Actin' tough, we gon' stomp 'em out
Bitch, I got syrup like the Waffle House
Speak on my name, we gon' shoot it out
They catchin' bodies like Beckham, it's hot in my hood
Callin' plays like I'm Belichick
I make that bitch fuck the homies, she'd do it for free
That's her fault, still gon' need my check
I tat the hood on my neck so don't ask for a photo
I'm a Crip, you ain't gotta check
We don't do beefin' on internets
He claim he a killer, I'm into that
Tryna be hood, well, I'm really that
Pussy plottin' on robbin' my partner, he silly cat
I show his ass where the billi' at, yeah
You know I'm good in my neighborhood
From Candler, but trap off of 166 Lakewood
Can't take advice from no broke nigga, fuck I look like?
Shawty gon' eat up the dick, say it taste good
Hah, Louis V hightops on the court wood
You gon' lose if you cook it, but I bet it snort good
Amiri jeans fittin' me tight, still got the strap on me, nigga
I'm the boss, mean that I got a faculty, nigga
Sack-chasing bitches tryna tackle a nigga
Do it for an image, you a wrestler, nigga
Real dope boy outside your woods and the rest of the niggas
Tryna take a nigga soul, get the best of a nigga
Big Margiela, get stepped on, lil' nigga
Real VVS's, put the tester on 'em, nigga
Go up with the plug like a tester, lil' nigga
I'll send his ass to heaven, I'll flex that lil' nigga
Fuck what they talkin' 'bout
Can't take advice from no nigga ain't had shit
Actin' tough, we gon' stomp 'em out
Bitch, I got syrup like the Waffle House
Speak on my name, we gon' shoot it out
They catchin' bodies like Beckham, it's hot in my hood
Callin' plays like I'm Belichick
I make that bitch fuck the homies, she'd do it for free
That's her fault, still gon' need my check
I tat the hood on my neck so don't ask for a photo
I'm a Crip, you ain't gotta check
We don't do beefin' on internets
He claim he a killer, I'm into that
Tryna be hood, well, I'm really that
Pussy plottin' on robbin' my partner, he silly cat
I show his ass where the billi' at, yeah
Hop out with Rugers and shoot just like Belichick
I put a price on the pussy, ain't sellin' that
Watch how I move 'cause these niggas be tellin' it
I got the pigeons, we turn 'em to pelicans
Trap money good, I give fuck 'bout a felony
Stick on me, let that bitch sing like it's Patti LaBelle on me
Just go to TransAm with them bricks and it fell on me
We cook up the bricks like we Keenan and Kel on 'em
Can't call you my bitch if you ain't drop no bale on 'em
Molly done, fuck a few hoes and I bail on 'em
Pop out with sticks, better run NFL on 'em
Drac' on the side of your hide, get the Bell on 'em
I'm in the Benz with the seat back
I put your face where my feet at
I got a stash where the seat at
Eighty a line, boy, I need that
I got your bitch gettin' teeth back
I'm in a Wraith with expired tags
I'm with the Crips with the blue rags
I got your bitch on her kneecaps
I'm poppin' the Percs where the geeks at
Boy, that's not Gucci, you big cap
Boy, that's your bitch, but I hit that
I paid a dub and got six back
Nigga a bitch, rollin' zigzags
Up on Rodeo with big bags
I got a pint, where this grip at?
I need some lean, where this Cris' at?
Look, fuck what they talkin' 'bout
Can't take advice from no nigga ain't had shit
Actin' tough, we gon' stomp 'em out
Bitch, I got syrup like the Waffle House
Speak on my name, we gon' shoot it out
They catchin' bodies like Beckham, it's hot in my hood
Callin' plays like I'm Belichick
I make that bitch fuck the homies, she'd do it for free
That's her fault, still gon' need my check
I tat the hood on my neck so don't ask for a photo
I'm a Crip, you ain't gotta check
We don't do beefin' on internets
He claim he a killer, I'm into that
Tryna be hood, well, I'm really that
Pussy plottin' on robbin' my partner, he silly cat
I show his ass where the billi' at, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Ayy, yeah, ayy, look
Fuck what they talkin' 'bout
Can't take advice from no nigga ain't had shit
Actin' tough, we gon' stomp 'em out
Bitch, I got syrup like the Waffle House
Speak on my name, we gon' shoot it out
They catchin' bodies like Beckham, it's hot in my hood
Callin' plays like I'm Belichick
I make that bitch fuck the homies, she'd do it for free
That's her fault, still gon' need my check
I tat the hood on my neck so don't ask for a photo
I'm a Crip, you ain't gotta check
We don't do beefin' on internets
He claim he a killer, I'm into that
Tryna be hood, well, I'm really that
Pussy plottin' on robbin' my partner, he silly cat
I show his ass where the billi' at, yeah
You know I'm good in my neighborhood
From Candler, but trap off of 166 Lakewood
Can't take advice from no broke nigga, fuck I look like?
Shawty gon' eat up the dick, say it taste good
Hah, Louis V hightops on the court wood
You gon' lose if you cook it, but I bet it snort good
Amiri jeans fittin' me tight, still got the strap on me, nigga
I'm the boss, mean that I got a faculty, nigga
Sack-chasing bitches tryna tackle a nigga
Do it for an image, you a wrestler, nigga
Real dope boy outside your woods and the rest of the niggas
Tryna take a nigga soul, get the best of a nigga
Big Margiela, get stepped on, lil' nigga
Real VVS's, put the tester on 'em, nigga
Go up with the plug like a tester, lil' nigga
I'll send his ass to heaven, I'll flex that lil' nigga
Fuck what they talkin' 'bout
Can't take advice from no nigga ain't had shit
Actin' tough, we gon' stomp 'em out
Bitch, I got syrup like the Waffle House
Speak on my name, we gon' shoot it out
They catchin' bodies like Beckham, it's hot in my hood
Callin' plays like I'm Belichick
I make that bitch fuck the homies, she'd do it for free
That's her fault, still gon' need my check
I tat the hood on my neck so don't ask for a photo
I'm a Crip, you ain't gotta check
We don't do beefin' on internets
He claim he a killer, I'm into that
Tryna be hood, well, I'm really that
Pussy plottin' on robbin' my partner, he silly cat
I show his ass where the billi' at, yeah
Hop out with Rugers and shoot just like Belichick
I put a price on the pussy, ain't sellin' that
Watch how I move 'cause these niggas be tellin' it
I got the pigeons, we turn 'em to pelicans
Trap money good, I give fuck 'bout a felony
Stick on me, let that bitch sing like it's Patti LaBelle on me
Just go to TransAm with them bricks and it fell on me
We cook up the bricks like we Keenan and Kel on 'em
Can't call you my bitch if you ain't drop no bale on 'em
Molly done, fuck a few hoes and I bail on 'em
Pop out with sticks, better run NFL on 'em
Drac' on the side of your hide, get the Bell on 'em
I'm in the Benz with the seat back
I put your face where my feet at
I got a stash where the seat at
Eighty a line, boy, I need that
I got your bitch gettin' teeth back
I'm in a Wraith with expired tags
I'm with the Crips with the blue rags
I got your bitch on her kneecaps
I'm poppin' the Percs where the geeks at
Boy, that's not Gucci, you big cap
Boy, that's your bitch, but I hit that
I paid a dub and got six back
Nigga a bitch, rollin' zigzags
Up on Rodeo with big bags
I got a pint, where this grip at?
I need some lean, where this Cris' at?
Look, fuck what they talkin' 'bout
Can't take advice from no nigga ain't had shit
Actin' tough, we gon' stomp 'em out
Bitch, I got syrup like the Waffle House
Speak on my name, we gon' shoot it out
They catchin' bodies like Beckham, it's hot in my hood
Callin' plays like I'm Belichick
I make that bitch fuck the homies, she'd do it for free
That's her fault, still gon' need my check
I tat the hood on my neck so don't ask for a photo
I'm a Crip, you ain't gotta check
We don't do beefin' on internets
He claim he a killer, I'm into that
Tryna be hood, well, I'm really that
Pussy plottin' on robbin' my partner, he silly cat
I show his ass where the billi' at, yeah
