(Verse 1)
First take a pen and paper then take an ill idea,
then grab a dope ass beat that’s just like something this right here,
then mix it stir it fry it poach it grill it broil it bake,
then add some spices to it serve it hot upon your plate,
savor every word of this,
praise you say you the shit,
lick crumbs up off your dish,
ask for that second hit,
now you back in the kitchen cooking up again,
tweaking the taste keeping it different,
so you mix it stir it fry it poach it blah blah blah blah blah,
you tell your girl to try it she’s yellin out rah rah rah,
she tell you she ain’t liein this shit the illest around,
you replicate the recipe pass it about the town,
cats confirm her review old school call it def,
now you back in the kitchen every night masterchef,
add new ingredients writing it in your books,
keep on eating it the more you need to cook.

(Chorus 1)
Hot hot hot shit straight off the stove fire,
grease poppin metaphor for my desire,
because I need to knead it that’s how I’m makin dough,
they eat it as I feed give’em a little mo,
cooking in the kitchen fresh off the crock pot,
sauce pan skillet give it to you nonstop,
pop it in the oven that’s how I’m making bread,
give it to you raw rare dude blood red.

(Verse 2)
Day and Night in the kitchen cooking every time,
got your formula down recipe in your mind,
nevermind the paper sometimes it’s off the dome,
don’t need a restaurant you cook it up at home,
hour after hour you restlessly continue,
got so much to serve you should make you a menu,
breakfast lunch dinner brunch supper,
keep it coming daily no sleep dreams suffer,
but as your dreams slumber your vision gains feeling,
sautee it up in an iron cast skillet,
add some peppers to kill it onions for tears,
chop up some fresh garlic ward away all your fears,
all the while you got the brain food marinatin,
pan sear it little raw tastes amazing,
add a garnish serve it with sauvignon,
back on the hustle homes say once again it’s on.

(Chorus 2)
cooking in the kitchen fresh off the crock pot,
sauce pan skillet give it to you nonstop,
pop it in the oven that’s how I’m making bread,
give it to you raw rare dude blood red,
hot hot hot shit straight off the stove fire,
grease poppin metaphor for my desire,
because I need to knead it that’s how I’m makin dough,
they eat it as I feed give’em a little mo.