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OG Hindu Kush
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Warehouse District
she keeps the firearm right beside the tiger balm
point blank period, baby got your back...
she had the grape-wine windbreaker
had her timbs tailored, burgundy red like rib flavours
fourth floor jumpy of the warehouse district
for chunky cookie cake, we air out biscuits
turn cooking shows into Paramount pictures
swimmin' upstream, got some red trout with us
take her aboard but we fishin' for sport
so... fall back like we ditchin' your corpse
a chef hat and an apron that say somethin' slick
oven mitts to cover grips 'cause they dust for prints
so if you grippin' nines and committin' crimes
like The Revolution, never leave (Prince/Prints) behind
'cause that yellow tape ain't a finish line
y'all baby mamas Adriannas and they singin' like...
(hook)
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she keeps the firearm right beside the tiger balm
point blank period, baby got your back...
she never bitches about scrubbin' the dishes
she just brushed her teeth and she can't fuck with citrus
fresh squeezed lemonade, waiting for a king
'bout to flee with the dowry and play him for the ring
let her whip the coupe though your steering is better
honey brown 911, call her Tia Carrere
the premium leather sticks to her skin in the summer
she hits you up on the burner but you ain't give her the number
yet you thinkin' youse a pimp is the oldest trick in the game
she was raised in the wild, she prolly live in the same
same style as her momma, she got attention to gain
so the fat lady singin' will prolly mention your name
she'll sell you out like 'this is business, this is life'
y'all baby mamas Adriannas and they singin' like...
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