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switching my wrist - hoodrich pablo juan lyrics

[intro]
mixin’ up the medicine

[chorus]
switching my wrist when i cook it up
switching my wrist when i cook it up
you could order up delivery
i’m charging extra when i’m pulling up
remixed the dark, i just switched it up
finessing and flexing, i’m counting up
my left wrist throw a curb ball
my right wrist, i’ma rock it up
switching my wrist when i’m cooking up
i’m switching my wrist when i’m cooking up
i’m working my wrist like a hurricane
flooded the city with the dust
i’m switching my wrist when i’m cooking up
i’m switching my wrist when i’m cooking up
i’m whipping the chickens up
i’m switching my wrist when i’m cooking up

[verse 1]
i’m very particular
scattered the snitches, i’m trapping individual
it’s two things for sure: they gon’ print money and i’ma get it
these haters, they pitiful
i’m bending corners, rocking linen in a bentley continental
i’m smoking presidential, i’m the president and the coach and the player like derek fisher
i’m the sensei, but never a master splinter
my foreign a hundred, still trapping rentals
no degree, but i still got h-lla credentials
zebra louboutins, strapped like a fisker
buscemi locks, i got keys, i got janitors
f-cked up the kitchen, d-mn, where my manners go?
sixty-three guts in the pint like a cantaloupe
whip up the bricks in the pot like geronimo
in the dopehole, we sell all kinds of dope
pick up the crate like it’s all from the store
can’t figure which wrist i’ma work, i’m bipolar
i’m working the pot, the same color my motor
ain’t gotta scale it, n-gg-, it’s all there
to the country, it’s in the air, all air
they going broke, i see grey hair
i got the baby, no daycare

[verse 2]
switching, whipping, beating babies with switches
have my junkie clean the kitchen with swiffer
two pots, three forks, no dishes
trap hot, they come and shop when they visit
whipping all kinds of ways different
want me to stretch it? gotta be specific
i make them cross out with the flick of the wrist
i make tall money f-cking with midgets
i mix the fill with the grits in the pot
i remember i ain’t have a pot to p-ss in
i just had to cook a whole chicken
n-gg-, hold the pot, steady putting my wrist in
go to kentucky, all i need is a stove
n-gg-, i’m making fried chicken
junkies, they coming when i cook it
n-gg-, they ain’t even buying, they blitzing

- hoodrich pablo juan lyrics

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