Armani Monté - Bobby Flay Lyrics

What's in the pot
Baking in the oven
Sauce on the top
Niggas too fried
Niggas getting grilled
Enjoy your meal

This that flavor in your ear
It's seared, iron chef cooking up for his peers
How it appears, I can pierce the soul of the pure hearted
Niggas dying from phoniness, they dearly departed
I ain't begging your pardon, this is crystal clear
I love my women dolled up, need Crystal right here
Money piled up, no powder, just power
Respect the run, we miles up
I was getting bored, now it's points on the board
Got to aboard the flights, got to reach new heights
What's the Fahrenheit, niggas ain't fair at night
Got to settle some scores, now the block getting scorched
Stackhouse versus Mutumbo
Niggas retired early for wearing the wrong jersey
Picking the wrong side, made them run suicides
Gave a nigga thirty and turned them to chicken curry
F*ck the beef let's smoke this plant based
Get so high, you can't feel your face
I get my supply from the source
God is my witness, they won't knock me off course
Sitting up in my room and sipping on some Brandy
Ha, call it Henny for my thoughts
Yeah, I need you to understand me
I can teach you how to ball, Phil Handy
Feeling handy, don't fix your lips with disrespect
Can't a cameo, talking out the side of your neck
The terms of engagement has been confirmed
I'm now and next, bitch wait your turn
No soup for you
Yeah you're screwed as a Rubik's cube
Hoody Hoo, it's tru
Y'all ain't got no taste, y'all can't beat Bobby Flay