The Recipe lyrics

by

Boosie Badazz


[Chorus: Young Scooter]
All you pus*y n*ggas coppin’ pleas
Like you convicted a felony
You lil n*ggas ain’t beefin’ ‘bout money
You might as well call off all beefs
Turn fifty to 200 Gs
b*tch I got the recipe
Black Amigo, we speak guapanese
You can hate but ain’t gon’ f*ck with me

[Verse 1: Young Scooter]
You gotta watch who you sell that dope
Because these pus*y n*ggas coppin’ pleas
I do what the f*ck I want, b*tch I’m a street lottery
Trap runnin’ like 24, we got indoors, we got outdoors
We take a week to sell 20 pounds
But f*ck n*gga your trap slow
I got truckloads like Costco
I got tons of gas like Texaco
Hundred real n*ggas ‘round me
From Edgewood to Lil Mexico
Trap house with no doors
A couple mill out the dope bowl
I see through these fake ass n*ggas
And no I do not trust hoes
You n*ggas ain’t beefin’ ‘bout money
You n*ggas rather beef ‘bout a b*tch
[Chorus: Young Scooter]
All you pus*y n*ggas coppin’ pleas
Like you convicted a felony
You lil n*ggas ain’t beefin’ ‘bout money
You might as well call off all beefs
Turn fifty to 200 Gs
b*tch I got the recipe
Black Amigo, we speak guapanese
You can hate but ain’t gon’ f*ck with me

[Verse 2: Jose Guapo]
I got to ride with the rifle
I got to ride with the bible
I got to keep it beside me
I got to keep it beside me
I got a book bag beside me
It got a QP inside it
I’ma hit hard when we [?]
Young Guapo might start up a riot
We did this sh*t for the streets
I count up the money with street
Young Guapo don’t f*ck with you creeps
Get it back in every week
n*ggas been callin’ off beef
Talkin’ ‘bout 200 to 3
We know you gon’ cop a plea
You was never in the streets
Don’t know you, I speak guapanese
We want them pints and them Ps
[?] Hendrix with me
Got too much money on me
Smoke on that reefer and choke
Scooter just got off a boat
Got shooters you know that they toke
Young Guapo, I’m far from a ho
[Chorus: Young Scooter]
All you pus*y n*ggas coppin’ pleas
Like you convicted a felony
You lil n*ggas ain’t beefin’ ‘bout money
You might as well call off all beefs
Turn fifty to 200 Gs
b*tch I got the recipe
Black Amigo, we speak guapanese
You can hate but ain’t gon’ f*ck with me
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