Lyrics QUE. – Idaho Potato
Text:
Idaho potato
Phew phew phew phew phew (hey)
We ain’t playin’ ’bout no paper, rock a nigga cradle
Idaho potato, send his ass to grave
Dirty, stick, ooh wee (shit)
Chopper, kick, Bruce Lee
Phew, phew phew phew phew, phew
Leave your whole top leakin’ when it’s ’bout that broccoli
Half things, whole blocks, gated mansions, dope spots
Stove tops, old pots, roadblocks, watch for cops
Lamb chops, ham hops, trappin’ out my fam spot
Dirty Glocks, three hot, posted at the wing spot
Chicken, syrup, beans, pot
What you need, we probably got
Try to rob, you gettin’ shot
Put you on the front of Fox
Breaking news on the block
Brought them brooms and the mops
Belly bitch, I feel like Ox
With a little of twist of plot
Phew phew phew phew phew (hey)
We ain’t playin’ ’bout no paper, rock a nigga cradle
Idaho potato, send his ass to grave
Pull up skrt, phew phew phew phew phew (talk to ’em)
Dirty, stick, ooh wee (shit)
Chopper, kick, Bruce Lee
Phew, phew phew phew phew, phew
Leave your whole top leakin’ when it’s ’bout that broccoli
Meet the plug, cash him out, get ’em off, clean the money, wash it off
Bought a MAC, bought some choppers, just in case these lil niggas try robbin’ us
Ten eighty HD cameras at the spot, ain’t no poppin’ off
Chopsticks, dirty harry, me and money sittin’ right here, ready for whatever
Bust your head, leave it open, and swollen, fuck nigga ’bout that mozzerella
We ain’t playin’ no games, hundred rounds, I don’t need no aim
Poker face, don’t play, nigga better not reach for no chain or it’s
Phew phew phew phew phew (hey)
We ain’t playin’ ’bout no paper, rock a nigga cradle
Idaho potato, send his ass to grave
Pull up skrt, phew phew phew phew phew (talk to ’em)
Dirty, stick, ooh wee (shit)
Chopper, kick, Bruce Lee
Phew, phew phew phew phew, phew
Leave your whole top leakin’ when it’s ’bout that broccoli
Hell nah we ain’t gon’ play ’bout no bacon
Hands up, we comin’ to take it
‘Bout them numbers put your ass in the Matrix
Yellow tape and shit, shell casing
We ain’t gon’ play ’bout them blue stale faces
Grab the chopper then jailbreak it
You ain’t gon’ take from my kids’ mouth
That’s the type of shit I wig ’bout
Never will I go ’cause never have I ever went
You got me fucked up, nigga you got shit bent
‘Fore I go out bad I’ll have your ass pinched
Pull up behind tints with the stick, get you drenched
Phew phew phew phew phew (hey)
We ain’t playin’ ’bout no paper, rock a nigga cradle
Idaho potato, send his ass to grave
Pull up skrt, phew phew phew phew phew (talk to ’em)
Dirty, stick, ooh wee (shit)
Chopper, kick, Bruce Lee
Phew, phew phew phew phew, phew
Leave your whole top leakin’ when it’s ’bout that broccoli
