Cookin' Up Lyrics


album: Track 2 in album Crime Pays
release date: 2009-5-12
popularity : 4 users have visited this page.
genres: Hip Hop
length: 4:03

Cover Art

Cam'ron Crime Pays cover art
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red slippers, red robe, red kitchen, red stove
red pots, one in the head cocked, the one the feds probe
red stools, red inf, red floors, you're all fakers
red couch, red crystal, red pepper & salt shakers
the red room, red curtains, & some'll squint
show some respect, what you expect - thats a hundred inch
telescopes, binoculars, the feds hate my vernacular
from selling coke i'm proper dockted that means i'm spectacular
they bitin' like Tyson, worst than that Dracula
your moms buy heron, with no hands i'm smackin' her
let me make it plain, since Dana Dane, I made it rain
now in the strip club, the bengies turn to paper planes
i'm Killa, you Andre Miller - got a basic game
I told ya b***h to hurry up, we dont wait for trains
i'm Derek Jeter, because i'm in between the base my mane
& thats on Lenox, 7th for 8th, eighths of cain
silencers on caliburs, but do it louder bruh
sledge hammer, smash his mellon - i'm the black Gallagher
you know I dump mine, on fake niggas, one time
wack bitches, rap snitches, my lifes a punchline huh
I spend a grip in bars, diamond studdard, vicious cars
the hoes, ask Joe - we audition ours
I hope you make the cut, pop ya puss, move ya butt
rugga up, think we from Houston, we done screw her up

[Chorus x2]
We pitchin', we pitchin', friction from mission to mission
Block to block, ave. to ave., from kitchen to Kitchen
We just cookin' baby, we just cookin up
We just cookin' up homie, we just cookin' up

[Verse 2: Cam'Ron]
You the soda bottle huh, i'm twisting ya' cap
and i'm luxury girl, come sit on my lap
her friends like "dont go that s**t is a trap
he'll have you traficking, swallowing, s**ttin' smack"
they pigeons in fact, how you gon' listen to that
you the flyest one in ya' crew them bitches is wack
start at the smile, I knew that the shit was a wrap
her friends were right though, she gon' be pitching some crack
i'm a true champ, you glance, four door, two tramps
fuck my money, honey, bring ya' foodstamps
go 'head you dance, an elephant to you ants
chain - Alaska, bracelet - nebraska
crib - well disaster, forty two plasmas
royal blue Maury's, shortie you bastard
only thing I dont know, what resort we in
I tell a bitch "get over here" like Scorpion
cars, order in flavors, you order from Avis?
come around me, why, they know my aura contagious
and i'm sorta courages, plus the kids smart
forget Biz Mark, he gon' catch more than the vapors
next door at ya' neighbors, they said all of you haters
set ya' up the very moment I offered them paper
and the law from the mayor, and my kicks?
the University Of Florida, of course that they gator

[Repeat chorus]

Track Listing

CD 1
  • 1 Crime Pays Intro
  • 2 Cookin' Up
  • 3 Where I Know You From
  • 4 Fuck Cam #1 (skit)
  • 5 Never Ever
  • 6 Curve
  • 7 Silky (No Homo)
  • 8 Get It in Ohio
  • 9 Who
  • 10 Grease (skit)
  • 11 You Know What's Up
  • 12 Spend the Night
  • 13 Fuck Cam #2 (skit)
  • 14 Woo Hoo
  • 15 Chalupa
  • 16 Cookies-N-Apple Juice
  • 17 My Job
  • 18 Homicide
  • 19 Fuck Cam #3 (skit)
  • 20 Got It for Cheap
  • 21 Get It Get It
  • 22 Bottom of the Pussy
  • 23 Fuck Cam #4 (skit)