WOLFCOOKER ft. Gifted Youngstaz Lyrics

We heat it up, kid

We heat it up, kid

We heat it up, kid

We get the pot hot; yeah we heat it up, kid

Yeah, I'm going back to god is it my final visit

Equivocally, vividly spitting. But y'all don't wanna listen

Honestly on a mission, to verbalize this condition

My visions lifted, it's Gifted, there ain't no competition

There ain't even opposition, I've just got to drop the wisdom

Similar to living bitching

I'ma carry on tradition

Spittin' with RA Scion, said Mikey you keep an eye on

A sixteen line I'm bringing it past the pylon

Thinking we can all agree, Gifted is an anomaly

Killing me with a bottle but filled with the pills you're swallowing

Never said to follow me, I'm only spitting knowledge see

A problem with all 'em balling farther than they wallets reach

What's in it? It's finished. I'm brining it back to triple digits

I'm thinking that rap's bringing it back, to it's humble beginnings

Big shoes to fill, but it ain't a problem; no small feat

From Common Market Live sans Sabzi to Mobb Deep

So bring forth the diadem; I been tried

Time and again - trying to survive the lion's den

The rearrival of the prodigal son, yo they

Say the day of the Promised One has come; it's a lot of them

Yo we do need a messiah though, it's evident we

Hell-bent on not dying; life's irrelevant

Deeply indebted to the means and methods of the

Machinery, man I'm thinking we should rethink things

We get the pot hot; we heat it up, kid

We get the pot hot; we heat it up, kid

We get the pot hot; we heat it up, kid

We get the pot hot; yeah we heat it up, kid

Here's how to cook a wolf in an endemic, the

Finish line's close, it's no time for roastin' pigeons - I'm

Picking the bones of a piglet with ya; get the picture

I'm pitching a fit - fork in the fist - a fifth of this formula's

Fixed firm in the other, my brother - you finna GIT it; the

Full effect of this furor; hot lead for the Fuhrer's head

As good as dead are the judge and juror - ain't no

Ketanji Brown about to conjure down a dormant dream in

Subconscious of an orphan trying to slide up in-between 'em, I

Been designing my defenses since the age of nine, and I'm

Admittedly confined to my offensive sensibilities

Timelessly cemented to resentment; shit is killing me

The inability to "let it go" is so

Inimical to growth, it's so difficult to go within the

Skin that I am in; it's like a mix of hydrogen and nitrogen

I might emit a nauseating noxious scent, so please

Pardon me - I'm just following the courses charted by the

Party of The Commies; all the monuments are toppling

The arsonists have gone and bombed a Pottery Barn

Oh, the atrocity! For god's fucking sake, go 'head and martyr me

The resurrection is deferred indefinitely

I expect some hesitancy in accepting the

Executors pathetic explanation for sequestering the

Jester left to take the blame for the death of Coretta's King

So bring forth the diadem; I been tried

Time and again - trying to survive the lion's den

The rearrival of the prodigal son, yo they

Say the day of the Promised One has come; it's a lot of them

Yo we do need a messiah though, it's evident we

Hell-bent on not dying; life's irrelevant

Deeply indebted to the means and methods of the

Machinery, man I'm thinking we should rethink things

We get the pot hot; we heat it up, kid

We get the pot hot; we heat it up, kid

We get the pot hot; we heat it up, kid

We get the pot hot; yeah we heat it up, kid

We heat it up, kid

We heat it up, kid

We heat it up, kid

We get the pot hot; yeah we heat it up, kid