letra de sauce prod. crcl - gteam
[verse 1: spinman]
whippin up the sauce and i’m feelin like a boss
yeah i’m whippin up the sauce quarter milli on a cross
yeah i’m whippin up the sauce and i’m sippin on some voss
yeah i’m whippin up the sauce pockets look like rick ross
pockets full of cheddar, i do what you do but better
swervin thru the lanes yeah my rhymes just got all sped up
sick of all your bars yeah i’m getting really fed up
all your trash songs, in the bin is where they end up
check your bank account, status lookin like some ketchup
got 15 followers, boy yall gotta catch up
you get smacked up, i get racks up, g team link up don’t need backup
all these diamonds on me lookin like they from alaska
whippin up the sauce yeah we only gon’ get faster
whippin up the sauce pour it all into some pasta
i got all this green make me look like i’m a rasta
whippin up the sauce no one better i’m the master
whippin up the sauce, pray to me like i’m the pastor
i got all this money cannot touch like mc hammer
all this ice on me yeah i really got that glamor
“please pr-nounce your words right that’s not proper grammar!”
we say can jordan in whatever way we want
just like big oof when he smashin on yo aunt
when you got all this cash, surely you gon flaunt
when the hook come in, thats just when the b-ss drop
[verse 2: yung seal]
les go
making that paper
and movin up the food chain
one day here we go
next day? i don’t know
coz mothaf-cka i live free
and you can’t speak to me
couldn’t care what y’all think
couldn’t care how y’all be
coz soon we gon be on wnyc
and yeah you know got the same initials
j z
basically this was meant as my destiny
i ain’t saying i’m no hov or sh-t
but i also ain’t saying i can’t write a hit
city of churches
but man i’m a sinner
whats that y’all smell?
i’m cooking you all for dinner
[verse 3: big oof]
new watch, don’t snitch, new rick
that sl!ck, big d-ck, no chick
g sh-t, real sh-t, dumb fit
yeah
i’m the king of asians
cheap rice
pop the collar then, you
feel the breeze when i walk
feel the heat when i talk
feel the pain with the shot
i sneak and you rot
you know i run the block
f-cking steve, top notch
i’m a king, top rock yeah
[verse 4: parsival]
yo he’s cooking you for dinner and i got you in the scope
like a child eating legos you’re about to choke
so lego my eggo you know how this thing go
but i am not a double g so let go my ego
winner winner chicken dinner got you on my plate
i couldn’t carry your dead weight so i’m eating your dead face
still got you taped down on the stretcher
welcome to my laboratory you can call me dexter
i’m getting hot hot hot like mexicans and their tamale
eating enchiladas while i dance with your mommy
got home listen to your songs boy i don’t feel great
listen on the toilet its a diarrhea mixtape
i wanna get a girl cosby how do i pursue em
“how you doin little ma-” (slap) what was that for?
whipping up the sauce now i’m feeling like a boss!
whipping up the sauce now i’m feeling like a boss!
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- letra de solemn request - chronic law
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