Stop cookin'
Stop cookin' it's smokin' in here
Who's got that hot hot hot hot hot hot buffalo sauce
We need spice in this mug right now
Noah can't have no bland chicken rap shit
Sesame, ranch, garlic, parmesan, or Kung pow
Any sauce will do, no I won't get lost in it
Sing songy gaudy hits
Got me this
Godless
Gotta get-her-done
Grab some gorgonzola
For the grocery list
Mix up ingredients in the kitchen
I'll whip the finest chicken
It'd turn Eeyore into an optimist
My team cooks heat
Wildfires without a consequence
Vision goes deep
Couldn't see it with ten optometrists
Wearing HD binoculars
Sending out scouting hawks
With contacts in
Making vision prime word to Optimus
Its Raw, illest in the land by a landslide
Southern like Crisco and pan-fried
Ya'll, put me in a box and I'll bust out that bitch
Like some gushers at snack time
Suacee' spreadin' spices on hip hop filets
Fill tastes buds with A1 flava since day one
Wordplay stays fun, f*ck with the funk like Rick James son
Everybody hates it or loves, Chris or Raymond
Ma'ma jamma, handin gamma rays of energy to you
To who? To me. Betcha sweet patootie dreams are comin' true
Coolly cool, whip voodoo like I'm kin to Erykah Badu
Despite lighter skin, like of Harry Connick Jr
Nior (You're) dazzled with my arsenal I carry a platoon
Of flows, but ask my babe he'd say I'm carrying the moon
Sun and stars, god oh god guess I might be super human
Plus I got a team with hits that get the vegetables movin
I could be in a room with ten dime pieces, smokin four quarters of loud
But I wouldn't give two f*cks
Cuz my darlin and my homies make me feel like a milly
So ten dimes and four quarters would just feels like two bucks
You a fool if you don't love this undeniably luscious, indescribable scrumptious
Ruckus, brother f*ck it
I'm done proving my worth, my earth times limited, so if I can't buy ya time
I'll just body the person who's rented it
Its Raw, illest in the land by a landslide
Southern like Crisco and pan-fried
Yall, put me in a box and I'll bust out that bitch
Like Gushers at snack time
Raw, illest in the land by a landslide
Southern like Crisco and pan-fried
Yall, put me in a box and I'll bust out that bitch
Like some Gushers at snack time
Wic Whitney - Gushers Lyrics
Wic Whitney - Gushers 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.
Stop cookin'
Stop cookin' it's smokin' in here
Who's got that hot hot hot hot hot hot buffalo sauce
We need spice in this mug right now
Noah can't have no bland chicken rap shit
Sesame, ranch, garlic, parmesan, or Kung pow
Any sauce will do, no I won't get lost in it
Sing songy gaudy hits
Got me this
Godless
Gotta get-her-done
Grab some gorgonzola
For the grocery list
Mix up ingredients in the kitchen
I'll whip the finest chicken
It'd turn Eeyore into an optimist
My team cooks heat
Wildfires without a consequence
Vision goes deep
Couldn't see it with ten optometrists
Wearing HD binoculars
Sending out scouting hawks
With contacts in
Making vision prime word to Optimus
Its Raw, illest in the land by a landslide
Southern like Crisco and pan-fried
Ya'll, put me in a box and I'll bust out that bitch
Like some gushers at snack time
Suacee' spreadin' spices on hip hop filets
Fill tastes buds with A1 flava since day one
Wordplay stays fun, f*ck with the funk like Rick James son
Everybody hates it or loves, Chris or Raymond
Ma'ma jamma, handin gamma rays of energy to you
To who? To me. Betcha sweet patootie dreams are comin' true
Coolly cool, whip voodoo like I'm kin to Erykah Badu
Despite lighter skin, like of Harry Connick Jr
Nior (You're) dazzled with my arsenal I carry a platoon
Of flows, but ask my babe he'd say I'm carrying the moon
Sun and stars, god oh god guess I might be super human
Plus I got a team with hits that get the vegetables movin
I could be in a room with ten dime pieces, smokin four quarters of loud
But I wouldn't give two f*cks
Cuz my darlin and my homies make me feel like a milly
So ten dimes and four quarters would just feels like two bucks
You a fool if you don't love this undeniably luscious, indescribable scrumptious
Ruckus, brother f*ck it
I'm done proving my worth, my earth times limited, so if I can't buy ya time
I'll just body the person who's rented it
Its Raw, illest in the land by a landslide
Southern like Crisco and pan-fried
Yall, put me in a box and I'll bust out that bitch
Like Gushers at snack time
Raw, illest in the land by a landslide
Southern like Crisco and pan-fried
Yall, put me in a box and I'll bust out that bitch
Like some Gushers at snack time
Stop cookin' it's smokin' in here
Who's got that hot hot hot hot hot hot buffalo sauce
We need spice in this mug right now
Noah can't have no bland chicken rap shit
Sesame, ranch, garlic, parmesan, or Kung pow
Any sauce will do, no I won't get lost in it
Sing songy gaudy hits
Got me this
Godless
Gotta get-her-done
Grab some gorgonzola
For the grocery list
Mix up ingredients in the kitchen
I'll whip the finest chicken
It'd turn Eeyore into an optimist
My team cooks heat
Wildfires without a consequence
Vision goes deep
Couldn't see it with ten optometrists
Wearing HD binoculars
Sending out scouting hawks
With contacts in
Making vision prime word to Optimus
Its Raw, illest in the land by a landslide
Southern like Crisco and pan-fried
Ya'll, put me in a box and I'll bust out that bitch
Like some gushers at snack time
Suacee' spreadin' spices on hip hop filets
Fill tastes buds with A1 flava since day one
Wordplay stays fun, f*ck with the funk like Rick James son
Everybody hates it or loves, Chris or Raymond
Ma'ma jamma, handin gamma rays of energy to you
To who? To me. Betcha sweet patootie dreams are comin' true
Coolly cool, whip voodoo like I'm kin to Erykah Badu
Despite lighter skin, like of Harry Connick Jr
Nior (You're) dazzled with my arsenal I carry a platoon
Of flows, but ask my babe he'd say I'm carrying the moon
Sun and stars, god oh god guess I might be super human
Plus I got a team with hits that get the vegetables movin
I could be in a room with ten dime pieces, smokin four quarters of loud
But I wouldn't give two f*cks
Cuz my darlin and my homies make me feel like a milly
So ten dimes and four quarters would just feels like two bucks
You a fool if you don't love this undeniably luscious, indescribable scrumptious
Ruckus, brother f*ck it
I'm done proving my worth, my earth times limited, so if I can't buy ya time
I'll just body the person who's rented it
Its Raw, illest in the land by a landslide
Southern like Crisco and pan-fried
Yall, put me in a box and I'll bust out that bitch
Like Gushers at snack time
Raw, illest in the land by a landslide
Southern like Crisco and pan-fried
Yall, put me in a box and I'll bust out that bitch
Like some Gushers at snack time
Writer: Noah Whitney
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid