Flip a Bird

In the kitchen (putting work)

On the scale, flip a bird, flip a bird, flip a bird

In the kitchen

Said I'm here for money making, I've lost about all my patience

Beat almost all my cases, thought I'd covered up all my bases

Bitches try to play you to some how, some way you figure it out

You fuck with Jay-Z's bitch from back in the day

You might end up with reasonable doubt

You fuck with grimey bitches

Standing over you taking pictures

While you sleeping cause you passed out drunk after having a threesome

That will give you a reason, to trust no bitch

Quit rapping and just go get it cracking (in the kitchen)

Bout' to push that white instead of that music

Seems like simpler profit, cos nigga's gossiping like they world-stars

Empty your bicep, until I find you and empty your pockets

If 5'9" stop rhyming, I'm driving on I-95 or I am (in the kitchen)

I will cop a key and put it on the scale

Can't tell y'all, if I did drugs or if they did me

Nah, we were just doing each other

We were side by side like everyday

Didn't care if we ruined each other

Back then it was so real, fully automatic it was overkill

I was on weed, I was on dust, might have tried coke when I was on pills

My pockets had rabbit ears, my mind gone, wasn't on bills

Whole family disappointed in me, can't imagine how that made my mom feel

Her one's missing, guns hidden, sorry Momma, your son's tripping

Got baggies scattered (in the kitchen)

Plus, you and Dad was' on the same road, y'all just left, made it right

If I didn't learn I'd do the same, pour some liquor, say goodnight

Now I'm on this music shit, trying to get this paper right

If not I'll be back (in the kitchen)

Let me get it now

On Twitter, they murder my mentions

Cause they heard I was served by a circle of henchmen

Laying in a dirty ditch that bullshit is further than fiction

Their personal mission's worse than snitching

To any person that listen, now I wanna' kill a hater

A middle finger by the 'fridgerator, flip a bird in the kitchen

Cuz DJ Vlad, he was glad, bullets went into me

Just to get traffic for his site, should've did him like MMG

But instead I called up Sway and we cleared that up on MTV

And now I'm back (in the kitchen) but should I be

Cause I heard that Slaughterhouse, is about to cop that Shady deal

But I'm out here chasing that paper still

Push Kush, Coke and crazy pills

Me being shot online, didn't stop my grind

Nigga I don't mind, and if I don't rhyme (I'm in the kitchen)

I will cop a ki' and put it on the scale

Just when a nigga thought it couldn't get worse

The hurts reverse; scoop my cuz up after grandma left earth

That recent shit, I was a young and bummy piece of shit, cursed

No decent kicks cause mom kept enough of that snow to ski in her purse

No father, Jux passed me my first gun, revolver

With the serial carved up, Real showed me my first jump, I'm a barber

Shaving the crack, after weighing the crack

An then placing the crack in 12 12's

I ain't play with the crack, I was making up stacks

All day I just sat (in the kitchen), bringing it back

Now I'm tryna do my thing with this rap

Hope this works, trying to flip words so my homies

Ain't gotta flip birds On the curb

Then black on a yellow belly coward homie feel like Pittsburgh

Lord I thank you, for making me able to find my way through

If not I be back on my momma's table (in the kitchen)