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lirik lagu cookout – zavion

pre-verse 1:

problems rose goblins out the moshin’
now on a billboard
river jam on a middle man
sit a n-gga down
get a sip for it
in a riddled town
wanna split it now
better calm it down
gotta pay awards
gotta pay at wards
fore’ i pay it forward

verse 1:

i don’t wanna’ get wild
i need a cookout
big momma’ style
country accent with a foot broke off in it
paper plates dented
uncle bragging bout’ his wagon that’s definitely rented
(i) better stop i sound cynic
see we past -n-lytics
since jesse got gout we stopped swimming
ain’t seen cousins in a minute
ain’t seen my aunties in a minute
why can’t we group up?
i mean, when did we all get splintered?
but if i make it out then we all be winnin’
on earth wind and fire
september getting put in
we gon’ do what we gotta do
no matter the fears
nya imma’ see ya’ next year
amariante imma’ see ya’ next year
sam send me that beat
muhammed, i need that feature
i know you preach, so i’ll bleep words
hiyah you a freak, but respect the grind
but i miss the old you, the untattooed every time
and to my grandma that catch me lying
i’m sorry in advance for not telling you
about alex ahead of time, why?
well, it’s simple, black family stereotypes
african roots
it’s one thing to date a white, but it’s another thing to date a guy
outta’ my mind
seen too much tv to -ssume you won’t ever love me
i
miss a house of dark complexion
but i’m not changing my direction
when someone cares about my erection
it’s a blessing to have you all on my side
just in time, for a cookout
for a cookout
for a cookout

phone call:
h-llo, yeah what’s up bro
hey, what’s up man
yeah i know it’s been a minute
but i was thinking we are all adults now
why don’t we just group up
have a cousin hang out
we all fly out and go to wherever
well let me know, i’m just in the studio
nothing really
aight bro
love you
one

chorus (x2):

why life can’t be that simple
where i can pop up like pimple
and see rice and beans in my bowl
does pride trump my soul?
surgical in our ritual
i see my troll as i bridge tho
i don’t know what i can miss
when i miss them every time
i know
see my skull
might see mo’
they don’t write my memoirs
and see same gleam in lagos
be lost in yo migos
i’ll be ibaka in the post
if they pause happy people
to play more trap
ain’t we old negroes?

- zavion

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