lirik lagu house of glory – westside gunn & stove god cooks
[chorus: stove god cooks]
why you mad? (why you mad at me?)
broke n*gga, why you mad?
chopper out the window, chopper out the window (brrt, bah, bah, cha)
[verse 1: stove god cooks]
you don’t know my expenses, i gotta buy bigger plates
and bigger scales and more bags, what you mad for?
we put them digi’ numbers on the dashboard
took her to the top from the trap floor, i’m that raw
had the feds at the front and the back door
[chorus: stove god cooks]
broke n*gga, why you mad?
why you mad?
chopper out the window (brrt, bah, bah, bah, brrt, bah)
chopper out the window (ah)
[verse 2: stove god cooks]
foggy glass pots and tec beams
i’m jesús with the recipe
i’m everything they dying to be
half a million cash is ecstasy
bullet holes in the lexus seat (brrt, bah, bah, bah)
he had some tricks up his avirex sleeve
this sh*t is rec for me
reach for my necklace and see (woo)
one burner don’t work good, but we still cooking
one bad brick don’t stop no show, we still cookin’ (still cookin’)
my grandaddy told me you’d get back what you put
my wrist say i get back way more
and i got twenty of ’em comin’ and they paid for
f*ck is we playin’ for? you know what you payin’ for
f*ck is we waitin’ for? what would i weigh ’em for?
it’s all good and if it ain’t all good, n*gga, i’m all good
i’ll be—
[verse 3: westside gunn]
baby, why you leave me?
i only f*cked her a hundred times, but i love you
ayo, it was like 1989, i seen loewe with the ak (ah)
he said it was the first, it was a payday, told him peace
seen a milli’, i walk across the street, he said, “peace, lord” (peace, lord)
he ’bout to meet prada for a drink
denim tears falling down my face, word to mugula (ah)
cryin’ ’cause my sh*t that dope, they can’t f*ck with us
seen chanel five hundred dollar plates, she in the county
she pulled up on tiffany, shot out the audi (brrt, skrrt)
another palm angel gained new wings (new wings)
valentino down to my shoestrings (shoestrings)
me and vera w*ng, that’s my boo thing (that’s my boo thing)
she used to f*ck van cleef
went through, sprayed that n*gga, sh*t, that’s on me (brrt, brrt)
came through, fendi moccasins with the big f (ah)
f*cked her one time, put lorraine on that b*tch neck (woo)
vogue mink cover, got the mac while i’m posing
your third eye closed, stupid n*gga, i’m chosen
f.p. journe ’bout as wet as the ocean (woo)
briefcase goyard, snake on my loafers (mm)
n*gga, i’m culture
down in the airs, gucci gloves with the poker (ah)
hat celine, house brunch, sipping mimosas
n*ggas like, “how this n*gga house like the moma?”
long live virgil, got the chains on the mona (mmm)
long live mich*lle, when i come, scoot over
i’ll be—
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