Fortune Cookie Lyrics
- Genre:Hip Hop & Rap
- Year of Release:2023
Lyrics
Been a long day, I'm
Trying to put my feet up
Ball the whole game
Ain't no way to beat us
Gotta be strategic
If you gone defeat us
Take a deep cut, ugh
Ball up like a fe-tus, we just
On the grind
Serving what they need, but
Gimme time, I
Gotta roll this weed up
Middle of the week, but
Homie getting geeked up
Pouring up the sweet stuff
I'm a need like three cups
Gotta, gotta, gotta, gotta grind
Cuz i gotta get it
Get it gone, for you spend it
Running up digits
Only pausing for the Za
Ain't no puffing midget
If it is then forget it
Because you know I ain't fucking with it
Freaky bitches playing Twister
An I'm fixing to spin it
All hands on me
And I kinda dig it
Only trying up her sister
Cuz it's been a minute
But bitch better be a ten
If not, I ain't going in it
ball the whole game
Ain't no way to beat us
We just, on the grind
Serving what they need, but
Freaky bitches playing Twister
An I'm fixing to spin it
But bitch better be a ten
If not, I ain't going in it
Call me T, see
She don't know the whole name
Special ed, what I call her
Cuz the slow brain
Hungry bitch, shit
Watch her eat the whole thang
Her favorite things
Is a hard dick an cocaine
Back at it, got the hazmat
And the propane
Throwing bricks, yeah
Like I ain't got no aim
Getting tipsy, sipping whiskey
But do no flavors
Big body, drunk driving
Taking up both lanes
Running, running, running
Up the check, cuz I'm getting money
Know your homies only flex
Cuz they getting nothing
Grab a chicken by the neck
Like I'm getting nuggets
Big money, quick plays
Burner phones, no texting from it
I'm on the E, but they
Love me in the West End
Disrespect, I'm a suit up
Like a best man
Booger sugar, got em
Talking like your best friend
Couple extra grams, got em
Loyal like Mets fan
Call me T, see
She don't know the whole name
Throwing bricks, yeah
Like I ain't got no aim
I'm on the E, but they
Love me in the West End
A couple extra grams, got em
Loyal like a Mets fan