Flip A Bird Lyrics by Slaughterhouse.
In the kitchen (putting work)
On the scale, flip a bird, flip a bird, flip a bird (x8)
In the kitchen
[ Royce da 5'9"]
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
Cos’ 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 ’59′ stop rhyming, im driving on (?) (in the kitchen)
I will cop a key and put it on the scale
On the scale, flip a bird, flip a bird, flip a bird (x8)
In the kitchen
[Joe Budden]
Can’t tell y’all, if I did drugs or if they did me
Nah, we were just doing eachother
We were side by side like everyday
Didn’t care if we ruined eachother
Back then it was so real, fully automatic it was overkill
I was on weed, I was on dust, might have tried coke
And I was on pills, my pockets had rabbit ears
My mind gone, wasn’t on bills, whole family disappointed in me
Couldn’t imagine how that made my Momma feel
Her one’s missing, guns hitting, sorry Momma’ your sons 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)
[Crooked I]
Let me get it now
On twitter, they murder my mentions
Cos’ they heard I was served by a circle of henchmen
Laying in a dirty ditch that bullshit is for (?)
There 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
Cos’ DJ Vlad he was glad, bullets went into me
Just to get traffic for his sight, shoulda’ did him like MMG
But instead I called up sway and we cleared that up on MTV
And now I’m back, but should I be
Cos’ I heard that Slaughterhouse, is about to cop that Shady deal
But I’m out here chasing that paper still
Push Kush, Coke & crazy pills
Me being shot online, didn’t stop my grind
Nigga’ I don’t mind, and if I dont rhyme (I’m in the kitchen)
I go cop and key and put it on the scale
On the scale, flip a bird, flip a bird, flip a bird (x8)
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