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I got my batches and cookies I got my batches and cookies I got my batches and cookies I got my batches and cookies Got my batches and cookies I got my batches and cookies I got my batches and cookies I got my what I got my batches and cookies I got my batches and cookies I got my batches and cookies I got my batches and cookies Got my batches and cookies I got my batches and cookies I got my batches and cookies I got my what Remember that gooey gooey You took and said ooo-eee ooo-eee I need two or two-eee of these For my baby boo-eee ooo-eee Talking like boobies Now you got a nice pair like some boobies SongtexteAnd you high off that doobie doobie With your Mystery Machine (Scooby) Feeling bad? Well you should be BP don't make nothing cheapie Hanging with them creepy creepies I sitting in back with PPs Lookin holy holy While looking through them holy holies Holy guacamole You got that gooey now you a phony I got my batches and cookies I got my batches and cookies I got my batches and cookies I got my batches and cookies Got my batches and cookies I got my batches and cookies I got my batches and cookies I got my what Outside of the club And I'm drip-drip-dripping sugar sweet Cinnamon on skin with the hooligans Y'all came to rock, and we came to ah! Put a sting in her lips [?] for the eye Go on, take a sip Got milk in her thighs [?] on sunny days From green tube and my high prices for the dream-dream Not cause i mean it means a thing to take from me Unless it's just some DMT That's all up in my energy Yup yup, go on place that bet If you wanna come test in the mama's nest With a bullet vest and curious chest Got the ammo on the brain but I hide the best Hey, I'm pumped up call me dough cooking Gooey salty soul tookin' Batches in a row lookin' Magic as all hell. We livin' Never ever will we give in To a wag beat fuck with Lazerbeak In these mad streets Get it, go there and we give it Haters will forbid it They fall into the minutes Because of imagination Now the ones who in the nation We the ones who need escapin' Then we find some new ovens And we made it Six-pence and land on the richer Cut a niggah up and hung him Like Jack the Ripper Undo your zipper Get on your knees And get ready for the industry In a nutshell (get it?) Them goods don't get got If it's the only thing you got Better keep them in that hot black pot The only thing colder than the local Tell another winter Thrift store shopping Look like Anna Wintour You ain't gotta ask about it 'cuz I been hurr Ridin' in them chariots Like we in Ben Hur Yah sure, ya know Yah sure, ya know Yah sure, ya know... Rappin and rappin and I been steadily stackin I put these niggahs in napkins And tuck 'em down for a nap And apologies to the Capitol Because I don't pay my capital And if you happen to hear this then Just pretend that you didn't at all Stop I got my batches and cookies I got my batches and cookies I got my batches and cookies I got my batches and cookies Got my batches and cookies I got my batches and cookies I got my batches and cookies I got my what Ooo, goo cookies, cream Ooo, goo cookies, cream Aus Songtexte Mania