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Hells Kitchen Lyrics

from Suffering From Success

"Hells Kitchen" is track #11 on the album Suffering From Success.
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"Hells Kitchen" is track #11 on the album Suffering From Success.
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Cold war, cold war, cold war
DJ Khaled

[J.Cole]
Yeah, back from the dead
Like Michael Jackson in red jackets, with naps in my head
Who's white or black, it's a rare package
Get smacked if you said, I'm neck and neck with these square rappers
My guest room's got plantiunm plaques, and an air mattress
No time for furniture shoppping, too bussy burning you
Watching you, learning you
Word to Pac
I'm plotting to murder you
Should of thought and occured to you
My next album flop, then I'm goin pop, like Nelly
With tops dropped on convertible, Porsches
Born Sinner, not burning no crosses
Might burn a couple bridges, I'm losing by double digits
I gotta do somethin'
Fightin' depression I'm trying my n*gga
But everytime I think about it I'm cryin' my n*gga
Cried myself to sleep on thousand dollar sheets
I reak of the scent of a vendetta that's deep
I'm playing for keeps, but you ain't think I'd bounce back
They love to hear black n*gga count stacks, count stacks

Forty thousand in my pocket you see it
Another twenty on the way you see it
I got a fish for a dollar you see it
Five hundred for the Js you see it
I get money out the ass you see it
I thought I'd never see the day you see it
They put a price on my head you see it
But they don't ever have to pay you see it
I fell down on my knees and yeah I prayed
Cause heaven seems a million miles away
I dreamed of all the things that I would say
On that day
But for now I'm cooking up in hells kitchen, hells kitchen
N*gga f*ck you and your fake well wishing
Now get out of hells kitchen, hells kitchen
Tell my story I'm just hopin' they'll listen
Cooking up in hells kitchen, hells kitchen
N*gga f*ck you and your fake well wishing
I get out of hells kitchen, hells kitchen, one day

[Bas]
Yeah, omission's usually, an admission to guilt
Hari Kari yourself, all the way to the hilt
You get nothin', no love
Zip, zero, zilch
We don't mention you lames, man I be pleadin' the fifth
There's a Judas in every crew, concealing the kiss
Kiss of death, let's put the rest all to tedious bits
F*ck sake you n*igga seminate a feminate trate
B*tch n*gga when could never relate
Nah, cause man you n*ggas is birds
You learn that at bird school, or somethin'
You eaten that bird food, or somethin'
You sick with that bird flu, or somethin'
That's my word, cause every where I turn
When folks I known for years, that couldn't pronounce my name
And asking me for pics, there's something bout this game
It's somethin' for the b*tches, it's somethin' for the b*tches

Forty thousand in my pocket you see it
Another twenty on the way you see it
I got a fish for a dollar you see it
Five hundred for the Js you see it
I get money out the ass you see it
I thought I'd never see the day you see it
They put a price on my head you see it
But they don't ever have to pay you see it
I fell down on my knees and yeah I prayed
Cause heaven seems a million miles away
I dreamed of all the things that I would say
On that day
But for now I'm cooking up in hells kitchen, hells kitchen
N*gga f*ck you and your fake well wishing
Now get out of hells kitchen, hells kitchen
Tell my story I'm just hopin' they'll listen
Cooking up in hells kitchen, hells kitchen
N*gga f*ck you and your fake well wishing
I get out of hells kitchen, hells kitchen, one day

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