Hell's Kitchen by OG Hindu Kush

HELL'S KITCHEN

Produced by Crack Moses

[hook]

tell the district attorney this didn't concern me

i was in Hell's Kitchen fixin' the fish & the curry

lamb for the slaughter, seasoned in turmeric powder

jealous queen, tell a story of murder and power (x2)


[Osa]


who else you know this Rico Suave 'bout RICO laws?

it's 'cause we don't lob doggy, naw we go off

keep it locked like the Eastern Block

feasting off the flesh and the pheromones like "Hi Honey, Taran's home"

watch her race for the apron and maple sizzurp

and let her skull game shine like Damien Hirst

shorty knows that i don't suffer, fools

the rules taught me to buck 'em and do unto others as others have done to you

so, if your best friends run with the Beast like X-Men

expect 'em to end up slumped in the West End

what you gon' do when You-Know-Who

roll by, bow-tie, Brother Mouzone suit?

we Army of God's Children, zombies with hearts missin'

got Luther and John with us, runnin' credit card scams

eyes red, no retinal scan

we get cake, get it straight, then invest it in land


(hook)


[Loe Pesci]

i feel like God behind these bars, every sentence is holy

man, even my pedastal's on a level to blow me

so you gettin' to know me, you should step to me slowly

and know that my only interest in you's to collect what you owe me

I ain't sweatin your shorty but if that bitch is fine

a single line, i'll stick it to her back like a 'kick-me' sign

on a Quest like McCody for Incredible Hulk green

I said get me a whole P but it better be OG

go fetch me some rollies, your connect doesn't know me

I bet he only roll with Bunk like Detective McNulty

your baby mama Adrianna get dumped where the hogs ate

if she singin' like Kanye and they buildin a strong case

she a #1 bitch and this isn't a dog race

pull strings for the boss like Silvio Dante

while I grin with the mob face, you say that bitch deserved it

Mr. Perfect, crack an OJ smile when I get the verdict


(hook)


[Royce Da 5'9"]

live from the psych ward, ridin' with a dyke whore

dime, she cryin cuz she Chi-er (shyer) than a Vice Lord

crimes committed is my life story

I should be signed to the court-room while the district attorney writes for me

nobody bettin against it 'cause I got deadly intentions

ready to vent and I only need the medic's attention

I'm more morbid than going door-to-door to record horror

I'll put you in your trunk up under your spoiler

I keep pushin', I beat bush when

I speak, more bullshit comes up outta me than the freak douchin'

I keep lookin' for guns like police under my seat cushion

out to complete just what the weak wouldn't

I'm a shit starter

so tell your bitch I'm a 10 on the dick chart, get smart 'cause I hit harder

I'm a sick martyr

you tryna massage the clit, I'm tryna stick my arm in her rim like Vince Carter

(hook)
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Category:

Music

Tags:

• Hell's Kitchen
• rap
• underground
• Hiphop
• Underground Music
• Rapping