Costco's - BOLDY JAMES

Why these niggas so mad at Blocks for?

Shit, I don’t know

Is it 'cause a nigga get his bag from Costco’s?

You got those from Costco’s?

In a kitchen with a bird on a hot stove

I could cook a brick with my eyes closed

Chicken and serve like Roscoe’s

My Tahoe, ridin' round servin custos outside blow

Free Baby Pablo, screamin «fuck the Colombos» since Donnie Brasco

Tryna smoke me out the foxhole

They just mad I’m a don like Bosco

I put cheese on your head like a nacho

'Cause a nigga get his bag from Costco’s?

We cruise down to El Paso, finna meet me at the Del Taco

Was just in the mountains on the Chavo

Out in Cabo with El Chapo

Me and Hector, no Camacho

At the racetrack with Benny Blanco

Told him «speedboat that shit back to me, ASAP, Pretty Flaco»

Sippin Rose, no Moscato.

Castro, that’s my Capo

I’m the boss hog, head honcho

But the plug call me «muchacho»

Muchacho, El Gato

Yeah, I get 'em for the deuce cuatro

If them bricks flaky, we’ll re-rock those

If them O’s shaky, we could swap those

If them bowls stanky, we could pop those

Got that old lady for ya nostrils

I’ve been known to hail it since a snot-nosed

Tryna bang the hinges off the spot doe

Wolves walkin' on egg shells

Now I’m tippy toein' on hot coals

Moon walkin' into cosmos

Let’s get it

You got those from Costco’s?

Straight to Trapper’s Alley, Alejandro

I’m going going, back back to Cali Cali, nigga pronto

For them marijuana from my vatos

Send that heroina from Morocco

Down to Tijuana, now we outro

To the Caribana in Toronto

Though you knew a couple niggas cop bowls

My Ricans (sp) grab it by the crop load

Duckin long ranger on the desert trail

Strap a mule down, they call her «Santo»

R.I.P.

Cecil Bri Santos, you could sell beans off Montrose

Bad bitch remind me of Salma Hayek, said she overheard the nigga convo

When we was checkin into the Heights, she was checkin out my ensemble

Said her father sentence got overturned

Where she come from, it’s a lot mo'

Where the coca and the pot grow

We got mo' keys than a locked door

Reppin Brick Life, shouts to Zo Sheeze (sp)

Bo Ski (sp) to Uncle Glasco (sp)