Tag: Chef Boyardee

Juice WRLD – Cooking Orders (Gun In The Bag) Lyrics

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[Intro]
(You’ll fly too)
Uh, any way you want it, uh
(TrellGotWings, bitch)

[Chorus]
Any way you want it, we can get it for you
Any way you want it, we can get it for you
I ain’t Chef Boyardee, but I’ve been cooking orders
I ain’t Chef Boyardee, but I’ve been cooking orders
Any way you want it, we can get it for you
Any way you want it, we can get it for you
I ain’t Chef Boyardee, but I’ve been cooking orders
I ain’t Chef Boyardee, but I’ve been cooking orders, yeah

[Verse]
Huh, Paul Dean with that Ford, whip, whip, whip
Kobe with that torch
Get the fuck up off my court stupid bitch
You know balling ain’t really your sport
Sheesh, gun in the bag, gun in the bag, yeah, uh
Keep me a gun in the bag, right next to my mask, yeah, uh-huh
Now it’s time to takeoff, ballin’ on these niggas like the playoffs
Killer at heart likе Adolf
Russian creams with the codeinе and the fuego, yeah, uh-huh
Shut the fuck up, nigga listen, ayy, ayy
This shit real boy, no Jiminy Cricket, ayy
Diamonds chandelier, boy
Ball like the Cavaliers, boy
The man of the year, boy
Left my momma in tears of joy
Uh, 20 bands in her pocket, damn
I remember when she ain’t have no wallet to put it in, uh
Now the money’s comin’ in
Hopefully I don’t spend it all on percocets again (Spend it all on percocets again)

[Bridge]
Huh, Paul Dean with that Ford, whip, whip, whip (Spend it all on percocets again)
Kobe with that torch (Spend it all on percocets again)
Get the fuck up off my court stupid bitch (Spend it all on percocets again)
You know balling ain’t really your sport

[Chorus]
Any way you want it, we can get it for you
Any way you want it, we can get it for you
I ain’t Chef Boyardee, but I’ve been cooking orders
I ain’t Chef Boyardee, but I’ve been cooking orders
Any way you want it, we can get it for you
Any way you want it, we can get it for you
I ain’t Chef Boyardee, but I’ve been cooking orders
I ain’t Chef Boyardee, but I’ve been cooking orders, yeah

Young Thug, Gunna & Yak Gotti – Take It To Trial Lyrics

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[Intro: Future]
Wheezy outta here

[Verse 1: Young Thug]
Worth a couple hundred mill’, no thousand
This bitch wanna fuck me, but I charge by the hour
My neck and my wrist in the shower
Like how the fuck you growing up and baby say you childish?
I just bought my young bitch a watch and now she wilding
Styling, profiling, you bitches can’t devour
And I’m Creflo Dollar smiling
We somewhere on a island, vibing
Balls smell like powder (Let’s go)
Fuck it, take it to trial (Yeah, yeah)

[Chorus: Young Thug]
Take this shit to motherfucking trial (Yeah, yeah)
Take this shit to motherfucking trial, yeah (Yeah, yeah)
Take this shit to motherfucking trial (Yeah, yeah)
Take this shit to motherfucking trial, yеah (Yeah, yeah)

[Post-Chorus: Young Thug]
Slime green AP look likе herpes on my wrist, uh
Hold on, cook, woo, I’m so Chef Boyardee with the dish
I don’t know you, bitch, don’t try to tell me tie my kicks
Talkin’ ’bout chips, ain’t talkin’ no dip
Primis Player Placeholder
[Verse 2: Yak Gotti]
Tell my baby mama tripping, she don’t get it
I’m on a mission to get these millions
I’m on the grind, and I’ma get it
No cap, nigga, no kizzy
Slime ’em out, then they ‘gon tell ’em I ain’t listen
Once he call, he ‘gon say that I’m trippin
Ain’t slime, that’s just how I feel (Nope)
You do not meet the criteria (Nope)
I rep my life, for real (Yeah)
[?] my time, for real (Yeah)
For slimes, you know I kill (Yeah, yeah)
Baby good night, my dear
Trial, I done beat it twice, state, I’m undefeated like
Feds came and snatched me, I don’t know, no point in asking
I was on Bleveland, stuck like a magnet
Bitch ass nigga, I shoot at your mammy
Need to stand down if you can’t stand me
I don’t turn down, I up my stamina
Take it to trial, get a appeal
Take it to trial, yeah, you ‘gon whack ’em
No back and forth, we don’t tongue wrestle
Pay for that casket, that’s just if we whack ’em

[Verse 3: Gunna]
Yeah, yeah
My young niggas pulling up, Bentleys, Aston Martins, ‘Raris and Teslas
Strapped with a FN, choppas, carbons, know some steppers
Got ice, not in no fridge, not in the safe, we like treasure
We fuck, have a lot of sex and her head feel like pleasure
Shawty super slurpy, suck that birky out that dick (Oh wow)
Maybach came with curtains and I still went got it tint (On God)
YSL slimey and shady, they ain’t wavy like my clique (Wavy)
High-end alterations, did that European stitch
Fuck niggas get hit, I got me a opp list
I’m quick to switch topics, ah, no way I can snitch (No way)
Watch me whack that bitch, pop ’em like a cyst
Glock with the assist

[Chorus: Young Thug]
Take this shit to motherfucking trial (Yeah, yeah)
Take this shit to motherfucking trial, yeah (Yeah, yeah)
Take this shit to motherfucking trial (Yeah, yeah)
Take this shit to motherfucking trial, yeah (Yeah, yeah)

[Outro: Young Thug]
Oh-oh, oh-oh
Oh-oh
Oh-oh, oh-oh
Oh-oh, oh-oh