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Flip a Bird (Slaughterhouse)

In the kitchen (putting work) On the scale, flip a bird, flip a bird, flip a bird In the kitchen Said I'm here for money making, I've lost about all my patience Beat almost all my cases, thought I'd covered up all my bases Bitches try to play you to some how, some way you figure it out You fuck with Jay-Z's bitch from back in the day You might end up with reasonable doubt You fuck with grimey bitches Standing over you taking pictures While you sleeping cause you passed out drunk after having a threesome That will give you a reason, to trust no bitch Quit rapping and just go get it cracking (in the kitchen) Bout' to push that white instead of that music Seems like simpler profit, cos nigga's gossiping like they world-stars Empty your bicep, until I find you and empty your pockets If 5'9" stop rhyming, I'm driving on I-95 or I am (in the kitchen) I will cop a key and put it on the scale Can't tell y'all, if I did drugs or if they did me Nah, we were just doing each other We were side by side like everyday Didn't care if we ruined each other Back then it was so real, fully automatic it was overkill I was on weed, I was on dust, might have tried coke when I was on pills My pockets had rabbit ears, my mind gone, wasn't on bills Whole family disappointed in me, can't imagine how that made my mom feel Her one's missing, guns hidden, sorry Momma, your son's tripping Got baggies scattered (in the kitchen) Plus, you and Dad was' on the same road, y'all just left, made it right If I didn't learn I'd do the same, pour some liquor, say goodnight Now I'm on this music shit, trying to get this paper right If not I'll be back (in the kitchen) Let me get it now On Twitter, they murder my mentions Cause they heard I was served by a circle of henchmen Laying in a dirty ditch that bullshit is further than fiction Their personal mission's worse than snitching To any person that listen, now I wanna' kill a hater A middle finger by the 'fridgerator, flip a bird in the kitchen Cuz DJ Vlad, he was glad, bullets went into me Just to get traffic for his site, should've did him like MMG But instead I called up Sway and we cleared that up on MTV And now I'm back (in the kitchen) but should I be Cause I heard that Slaughterhouse, is about to cop that Shady deal But I'm out here chasing that paper still Push Kush, Coke and crazy pills Me being shot online, didn't stop my grind Nigga I don't mind, and if I don't rhyme (I'm in the kitchen) I will cop a ki' and put it on the scale Just when a nigga thought it couldn't get worse The hurts reverse; scoop my cuz up after grandma left earth That recent shit, I was a young and bummy piece of shit, cursed No decent kicks cause mom kept enough of that snow to ski in her purse No father, Jux passed me my first gun, revolver With the serial carved up, Real showed me my first jump, I'm a barber Shaving the crack, after weighing the crack An then placing the crack in 12 12's I ain't play with the crack, I was making up stacks All day I just sat (in the kitchen), bringing it back Now I'm tryna do my thing with this rap Hope this works, trying to flip words so my homies Ain't gotta flip birds On the curb Then black on a yellow belly coward homie feel like Pittsburgh Lord I thank you, for making me able to find my way through If not I be back on my momma's table (in the kitchen)