Cook It Up by Jetamex Lyrics
[lyrics]
Hook (akneatly)
Cook it up fast
Den do the dash
Grind heavy yeah straight to the bag
I ain't ever copy no bodies swag
Yeah I’m staying in my own lane
Staying in my own lane
Don’t care much bout fame
Can't let fame to your brain
Boy u hella lame
Verse 1 (akneatly)
Christian dior on my shoes
Im movin fast, no i cannot lose now
Im finna pull up wit da noose
My brothas move fast yeah they on the loose now
Im tryna ride fast in a space coupe
Tinted windows car space blue
Im takin shots like a photoshoot
Im on my grind, they got no clue
They throwing dirt on my name
I need myself, I stay in my lane yeah
I cannot put up with fakes
The day ones all be playing games yeah
Don’t need the fame yeah
Counting bands till my name in the grave yeah
Never trust snakes yeah
I stay on my grind, stay true to my name yeah
Hook (akneatly)
Cook it up fast
Den do the dash
Grind heavy yeah straight to the bag
I ain't ever copy no bodies swag
Yeah I’m staying in my own lane
Staying in my own lane
Don’t care much bout fame
Can't let fame to your brain
Boy u hella lame
Verse 2 (Ali)
Stay in your own lane
Boy you cannot even speak on my name
Why the hell is you so lame
I don't really care about no pain, yeah
I got my own style and my own flow
They say lil Ali why you so cold?
Cuz I can't ever go back yeah
To where these people they all be so cold
Mercedes Maybach that's a no go
I got a Hellcat, you gonna fold
You actin tough, that's pretty bold
I got the game, in a head hold
The reason I do all this rapping and sapping is to make sure my passing cannot get old
Hook (akneatly)
Cook it up fast
Den do the dash
Grind heavy yeah straight to the bag
I ain't ever copy no bodies swag
Yeah I’m staying in my own lane
Staying in my own lane
Don’t care much bout fame
Can't let fame to your brain
Boy u hella lame x2
Hook (akneatly)
Cook it up fast
Den do the dash
Grind heavy yeah straight to the bag
I ain't ever copy no bodies swag
Yeah I’m staying in my own lane
Staying in my own lane
Don’t care much bout fame
Can't let fame to your brain
Boy u hella lame
Verse 1 (akneatly)
Christian dior on my shoes
Im movin fast, no i cannot lose now
Im finna pull up wit da noose
My brothas move fast yeah they on the loose now
Im tryna ride fast in a space coupe
Tinted windows car space blue
Im takin shots like a photoshoot
Im on my grind, they got no clue
They throwing dirt on my name
I need myself, I stay in my lane yeah
I cannot put up with fakes
The day ones all be playing games yeah
Don’t need the fame yeah
Counting bands till my name in the grave yeah
Never trust snakes yeah
I stay on my grind, stay true to my name yeah
Hook (akneatly)
Cook it up fast
Den do the dash
Grind heavy yeah straight to the bag
I ain't ever copy no bodies swag
Yeah I’m staying in my own lane
Staying in my own lane
Don’t care much bout fame
Can't let fame to your brain
Boy u hella lame
Verse 2 (Ali)
Stay in your own lane
Boy you cannot even speak on my name
Why the hell is you so lame
I don't really care about no pain, yeah
I got my own style and my own flow
They say lil Ali why you so cold?
Cuz I can't ever go back yeah
To where these people they all be so cold
Mercedes Maybach that's a no go
I got a Hellcat, you gonna fold
You actin tough, that's pretty bold
I got the game, in a head hold
The reason I do all this rapping and sapping is to make sure my passing cannot get old
Hook (akneatly)
Cook it up fast
Den do the dash
Grind heavy yeah straight to the bag
I ain't ever copy no bodies swag
Yeah I’m staying in my own lane
Staying in my own lane
Don’t care much bout fame
Can't let fame to your brain
Boy u hella lame x2