Freddie Gibbs – Lobster Omelette Lyrics

 

Lobster Omelette Lyrics by Freddie Gibbs (feat. Rick Ross)

 

Yeah, Kane
Check, check, uh
Check, check, yeah
Check, check

My nightmares’ comin’ true (Yeah, yeah)
But they ain’t leave me spooked (Nah)
On the West Coast countin’ blues
But I’m whoopin’ with them ‘Rus (Suwoop, yeah)
In my neighborhood, you was either five or six, you had to choose
And folks and them was stealin’ my Starter jacket and my shoes (Give me the shit, bitch)
They laughin’ at me at my school, so I move like I ain’t got shit to lose (Haha)
When I get them goons, you in the afterlife by afternoon (Uh)
My chopper tucked, man, I served that dust, my n**** served that food
Now I’m in my jail cell, watchin’ myself on the news (What the fuck?)
Broken hearts and empty pockets, crack water, dirty faucet (Yeah, yeah, yeah)
When I shot that bitch in the chest, man, I knocked his shoulder out its socket (Baow)
Fuck a degree, I’m whippin’ diesel, no direct deposit (Yeah)
Dope in my diaper bag, I serve ’em while my daughter watchin’ (Shit, n****)
Prosecutor might diminish me, so when they sentenced me, I was a no-show (Yeah, yeah)
Dumped the body in the country, shawty D4L, I did it for the low-low (Yeah, yeah)
Bury me with all my jewelry on me and some VVS’s in the logo (Yeah, yeah)
President ain’t never love a n****, who the fuck a n**** supposed to vote for? N****, what? Yeah
All my Lords in the pen ’bout to feel this shit
Got a stripper bitch that live in Hollywood with a mouth so good, she can seal these bricks (Woo)
Last year, let a n**** bust down, heard she got a n**** now, she can still get dick (Yeah)
You could take away this rap shit today, throw the whole shit away, and I’ma still get rich, bitch (Yeah)

Triple S
Kane Train
Uh, I’m ice skatin’
I’m ice skatin’ (Maybach Music)
Yes

N***** come to conclusion, checks keep comin’ concurrent
Shooters on the maneuver, really as a deterrent
MA singin’ melodic, pussy seemin’ hypnotic
I’m addicted to diamonds, such a fiend for them watches
Dollar signs in my carpet, killin’ opps is the obvious
I count bodies like bottles at parties when I’m in Cabo
I just lead and they follow, call it laws of attraction
Livin’ in the colosseum till I’m caught in my casket
On the beach in a mansion, dope boy got him a pension
Pistols pulled in a panic, you can give me my sentence
Money come with the killings, white convertible ceiling
Bel-Air bottles in Venice, pray you mindin’ your business
Rappers wanna play sports, athletes caught in the courts
Actors overdosin’, addicted to chemicals, boy
Boss