Letras
[Chorus]
****, don't ask me to cook
It's no ring on finger, I'm too turnt, you gettin' jack
You better go pull out that book
Unless you want air, but I'll cook if you pull out a stack
I got a football boo
He swear he in love, that **** skip practice to see me
Got a trappin' **** too
Take me to the mall, everything that I'm wanting is free
[Verse 1]
Pillow talkin' get you smacked out
Mirrors got tint in this truck and it's blacked out
Crew on go if a ho try to act out
Beatin' her in till she done, make her tap out
If you a girlfriend, you a dummy
Y'all cuffin' these ****, I'm doin' them cruddy
Y'all freakin' these ****, I'm spending they money
Some banging they rich but I'm knowin' they crummy
They say I'm different and I'm prominent
Run game on your ho, thinkin' she stoppin' it
Got 'em obsessed got 'em feeling my confidence
Arrogant girl, I can't help that I'm confident
Been left the ghetto, suburb got me boujee
Chocolate skin with my pretty gold jewelry
Havin' my way 'cause my life is a movie
Havin' my way, don't play me like a goofy
[PreChorus]
Uh, Bri3
Jammin' with Bria
Jammin' with Bria
[Chorus]
****, don't ask me to cook
It's no ring on finger, I'm too turnt, you gettin' jack
You better go pull out that book
Unless you want air, but I'll cook if you pull out a stack
I got a football boo
He swear he in love, that **** skip practice to see me
Got a trappin' **** too
Take me to the mall, everything that I'm wanting is free
[Verse 2]
Fuck CookinWitKya, we jam wit' Bri3
I'll come with that P, make you drop to your knee
This bitch on my line, she swear that she know me
Now she like she tryna cook with joeb
LilWhitez don't trickin', LilWhitez don't be cookin'
You better get your bitch, if she look, then she took
You want me pull up, you gotta pay me for bookin'
She start fuckin' wit' me, she can't fuck wit' no rookie
You better act like you know, if you don't, we gon' see you
Should out to b3, Drac' to your face, it's gon' meet you
If I give brodie the look, you better run, we gon' leave you
Bitch say she love me, responded like I don't believe you
Brodie say take off, all of these **** beneath you
I told 'em bet and I took off, I ain't say shit about it
If your watch gettin' took off, better not say shit about it
He know I fucked his lil' bitch and he ain't even say shit about
[PreChorus]
Uh, Bri3
Jammin' with Bria
Jammin' with Bria
[Chorus]
****, don't ask me to cook
It's no ring on finger, I'm too turnt, you gettin' jack
You better go pull out that book
Unless you want air, but I'll cook if you pull out a stack
I got a football boo
He swear he in love, that **** skip practice to see me
Got a trappin' **** too
Take me to the mall, everything that I'm wanting is free
Written by: Abria Parrish, Qaadir Sinclair
