Yeah
Uh, shit, look
I just need a week to cook up
Niggas physique to weak to compete with the elites
Do some push-ups
Still can't spar with the god, try you hardest to bob
Y'all subpar bar for bar, I hardy har har at ya squad
I hardly spark gars which is odd
Y'all need weed to reach my sober thoughts
If I chief then sheesh, you'll need a pole to vault
They so distraught
F*ck about all the shoes and clothes you bought
Foes you fought and how many hoes you caught
Y'all ain't take heed of lessons the OG's taught
Under perform and over talk, how you gon' throw the salt
At a seasoned vet? Which emcees is next to step up
And try they best to cease the threat?
Hmm, my old bitch tryna reconnect
I'm way too busy to read ya txt
Rap niggas sayin' we need to work
I'm too well versed to sell you a verse
Grew up too tough to believe these acts
They all puppets with strings attached
Feel like anyone with a mic can get a check
I came to collect on it
Bitch, you know the name, put some respect on it, G-R-I-P
Came in this game with a pen and a pad and the sins from my past
To repent in the form of these gems for the lads
Through these hymns that I had
And somethin' else, oh, yeah, tend to the bag
Promised myself that a limb wouldn't drag
And now it's lookin' real grim for you, dag
Boys ain't f*ckin' with him in the lab
Why niggas even attempt to collab'?
Paint the Sistine with sixteen bars with thirty-two I'm magic
My first fourty-eight will do you tragic, a sixty-four, it's caskets
Perhaps its taken it too far
I'm 2Pac in a 2022 car
I'm anti don't wanna know who none of you are
I can't lie my stomach rumbling for the new star
It's enticing, I'm Mike on the Mic if we do spar
I'm just warming up, this is heat rock
The heir apparent in a pair of Pyer Moss Reeboks
Might bust down the G Shock
Since broke boys buyin' Rollies off Depop
I don't sip from the teapot
I don't drink well, I don't do cheap shots
If it's a problem I don't stress it
Real nigga, I'm stamped so I address it
God did it first, I'm second
Crafted this in six days on the seventh, I rested
Soon come more raps from the boy
'Til then sit back relax and enjoy
Cook Up Video (MV)
Grip - Cook Up Lyrics
Official
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We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
Yeah
Uh, shit, look
I just need a week to cook up
Niggas physique to weak to compete with the elites
Do some push-ups
Still can't spar with the god, try you hardest to bob
Y'all subpar bar for bar, I hardy har har at ya squad
I hardly spark gars which is odd
Y'all need weed to reach my sober thoughts
If I chief then sheesh, you'll need a pole to vault
They so distraught
F*ck about all the shoes and clothes you bought
Foes you fought and how many hoes you caught
Y'all ain't take heed of lessons the OG's taught
Under perform and over talk, how you gon' throw the salt
At a seasoned vet? Which emcees is next to step up
And try they best to cease the threat?
Hmm, my old bitch tryna reconnect
I'm way too busy to read ya txt
Rap niggas sayin' we need to work
I'm too well versed to sell you a verse
Grew up too tough to believe these acts
They all puppets with strings attached
Feel like anyone with a mic can get a check
I came to collect on it
Bitch, you know the name, put some respect on it, G-R-I-P
Came in this game with a pen and a pad and the sins from my past
To repent in the form of these gems for the lads
Through these hymns that I had
And somethin' else, oh, yeah, tend to the bag
Promised myself that a limb wouldn't drag
And now it's lookin' real grim for you, dag
Boys ain't f*ckin' with him in the lab
Why niggas even attempt to collab'?
Paint the Sistine with sixteen bars with thirty-two I'm magic
My first fourty-eight will do you tragic, a sixty-four, it's caskets
Perhaps its taken it too far
I'm 2Pac in a 2022 car
I'm anti don't wanna know who none of you are
I can't lie my stomach rumbling for the new star
It's enticing, I'm Mike on the Mic if we do spar
I'm just warming up, this is heat rock
The heir apparent in a pair of Pyer Moss Reeboks
Might bust down the G Shock
Since broke boys buyin' Rollies off Depop
I don't sip from the teapot
I don't drink well, I don't do cheap shots
If it's a problem I don't stress it
Real nigga, I'm stamped so I address it
God did it first, I'm second
Crafted this in six days on the seventh, I rested
Soon come more raps from the boy
'Til then sit back relax and enjoy
Uh, shit, look
I just need a week to cook up
Niggas physique to weak to compete with the elites
Do some push-ups
Still can't spar with the god, try you hardest to bob
Y'all subpar bar for bar, I hardy har har at ya squad
I hardly spark gars which is odd
Y'all need weed to reach my sober thoughts
If I chief then sheesh, you'll need a pole to vault
They so distraught
F*ck about all the shoes and clothes you bought
Foes you fought and how many hoes you caught
Y'all ain't take heed of lessons the OG's taught
Under perform and over talk, how you gon' throw the salt
At a seasoned vet? Which emcees is next to step up
And try they best to cease the threat?
Hmm, my old bitch tryna reconnect
I'm way too busy to read ya txt
Rap niggas sayin' we need to work
I'm too well versed to sell you a verse
Grew up too tough to believe these acts
They all puppets with strings attached
Feel like anyone with a mic can get a check
I came to collect on it
Bitch, you know the name, put some respect on it, G-R-I-P
Came in this game with a pen and a pad and the sins from my past
To repent in the form of these gems for the lads
Through these hymns that I had
And somethin' else, oh, yeah, tend to the bag
Promised myself that a limb wouldn't drag
And now it's lookin' real grim for you, dag
Boys ain't f*ckin' with him in the lab
Why niggas even attempt to collab'?
Paint the Sistine with sixteen bars with thirty-two I'm magic
My first fourty-eight will do you tragic, a sixty-four, it's caskets
Perhaps its taken it too far
I'm 2Pac in a 2022 car
I'm anti don't wanna know who none of you are
I can't lie my stomach rumbling for the new star
It's enticing, I'm Mike on the Mic if we do spar
I'm just warming up, this is heat rock
The heir apparent in a pair of Pyer Moss Reeboks
Might bust down the G Shock
Since broke boys buyin' Rollies off Depop
I don't sip from the teapot
I don't drink well, I don't do cheap shots
If it's a problem I don't stress it
Real nigga, I'm stamped so I address it
God did it first, I'm second
Crafted this in six days on the seventh, I rested
Soon come more raps from the boy
'Til then sit back relax and enjoy
Writer: Kyle Clow, Latrell James, Tedd Boyd
Copyright: Lyrics © CONCORD MUSIC PUBLISHING LLC
Copyright: Lyrics © CONCORD MUSIC PUBLISHING LLC