VEERT (feat. Estee Nack & Stove God Cooks)

Westside Gunn

Compositor: Daringer

Ayo
You ain't never had to parallel park a Bugatti
5K, the YN catch a new body (boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom)
[?] opps, jumper on Bulgari
Ruth's Chris cup, mix codeine with the Starry (shit)

Out in Paris, eight seasons, five days straight
No reservation, all I had to do was rock my chains
French bitch fucked me 'cause my bracelet, didn't know my name
Long way from 70-something, [?] (brrt) (Gotti, shine!)

The dope was grey and it smelled like vinegar (fuck, coño)
Knew to cut it five or six times, and it's the carjack press cinema (jack, Jack, Jack)
Slime-ass niggas is amphibious (snakes)
Stick to the family, van hit [?] (brrt)

Instantaneous (right away), six aliens (nack), [?] (yeah)
Traps out the Latin boutique (trap)
Mood swings, food for kings (we eatin')
Death toll, walk-in, supreme echo (fly)
Clothes retro, fashion expos, select hoes (mami)

Church music (sounds good), fallen angels (yeah)
Half a million-dollar Winnebago (money)
Cops in plain clothes (woo), Spain shows (we out)
Been to great lows (we in now)
Now the motion like Mayco (movin')
Hundred-dollar tips in Turks and Caicos, yo (whoa)

Queso, case closed (yeah), black Rolls (nack)
Nack done chose the path of gold, the math done told
And that's when you get it after you know
Shit's the format (that's the order)

Wipe your feet at my doormat (word)
Trying to see where y'all is at (where you at, son? Chk chk boom, boom)

Witch doctor (magic), raps and cracks, I'm a philosopher
The Pyrex, I could be a part of (hit my line)
Dancin' salsa, out-of-state posture (oye cómo va)
Colossal L, wine and steak, pasta
Drunk and high, looking like a pilot in a space saucer, vroom (doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, we out)

Putting a bullet in the impostor (toma)
Yeah, son (headshot), the illest nigga on the roster

Ayo
You ain't never had to parallel park a Bugatti
5K, the YN catch a new body (boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom)
[?] opps, jumper on Bulgari
Ruth's Chris cup, mix codeine with the Starry

Out in Paris, eight seasons, five days straight
No reservation, all I had to do was rock my chains
French bitch fucked me 'cause my bracelet, didn't know my name
Long way from 70-something, [?] (ahh)

They said the streets miss you, the game miss you, the kitchen miss you
Bricks miss you, the plug miss you, fans miss you, fiends miss you
I'm back, nigga, I'm back
My wrist rested up, I'ma make it jump back

Shooters hangin' out the Rolls-Royce, nigga, I'm back
Got my wrist rested up, I'ma make it jump back
Shooters hanging out the Rolls-Royce (brrt), nigga, I'm back
Got my wrist rested up, I'ma make it jump back

Uh, uh, I'm back, nigga (woo), I'm back
I know, I know, I know, I know, I know they think they this
Them niggas better stop (them niggas better stop)
You can't compare one bird to a pet shop (you can't)
You can't compare one Perc to a fentanyl spot (you really can't)

Just took my twins to Disney
On the way in, sold a brick outside of Epcot
They like, Stove, you ain't cooked in forever, I know you rusty
I'm like, I been had my tetanus shot (bitch, stop playing with me)
And I got the TEC in the drop (brrt, bop, bop)

Bitch, I been feet to floor like Fred in Bedrock
Fourth rope cocaine champion
You can't wrestle with God (I got the belt)
The Virgil rug say Rug
The plug name in my phone say plug
(Plug, nigga, in my phone say plug)

Horses on Sunset with Tremaine and Slime
Rockin' the Denim Tear Uggs (haha)
Tracy McGrady, cook on one crooked eye
I'm the one (I'm the one), I'm the one, bitch, I'm me

And the album done
Stove (haha)

Y'all bitch-ass niggas wanna talk that gunplay shit
Y'all niggas never will, shit
Y'all niggas is pussy-ass hoes, lames

(Griselda)

LOE, nigga, Broadway, gang, stand up
Nigga, we crippin', we crackin', we blooded up
Nigga, we everything
Y'all niggas been bitch

I'ma tell you one more time, I put this on my grandmama
You take my name, you call me Dad
Reverend Daddy motherfuckin' Allison

Slow fuck-ass niggas, you niggas ain't get no money
I been doin' my thug thizzle
I been doin' this shit
And that's the last time I tell y'all niggas
I'm a gangster for real

Just came back from howlin' at Pappy Mason
Supreme Team, nigga
Free that mob boss, nigga, Hook
Holla at my nigga Chubbs
Holla at that nigga Sandman LaCosta

Nigga, we crippin' for real
We out here gang-banging, slangin' and doin' all type of shit
Crip, Blood, Latin King, Nieta
Dosieta, Ventecieta

Nigga, we doin' our thing
Nigga, moro de sobra, tiela como rotera
Brozo yo como rovaniello, comi la suco, yeh
Bozo tiela abroto, yo lo bra que ni lo to'o samja
Broto yo sobra, que ni lo to'o yo bra tisanda

Me comin' mi clasa, tryna fuck with the realest
African Dandara
You niggas'll get killed
We murder for fun, you pussy-ass niggas
But guess what?
It's just a joke

Holla at me later