Ensalada Lyrics by Freddie Gibbs, The Alchemist & Anderson .Paak
Check, uh
Right, uh
It’s a lotta, uh
It’s a lotta, uh
It’s a lotta, it’s a lotta
It’s a lotta cold nights, hunger pains in this ***
Water whippin’ on some cane in this ***
Robbin’ when ain’t *** to slang in this ***
It’s a lotta
It’s a lotta cold tears, hard times in this ***
*** can’t stay off my mind in this ***
Ain’t no love, she don’t reside in this ***
Waking up to cold sweats, I’m soakin’ wet
Ain’t got the stomach or the mind for this ***
You ever had to work a *** line?
See your homie’s mom stand in line for this ***?
It’s a lotta
It’s a lotta choppas, lot of dirty guns in this ***
It’s all fun and games till a *** need to bail out and ain’t got the funds in this ***
***-ass ***
Only come around me when you’re down on your luck ass ***
Ask who the *** I trust
***, I trust me, I could never trust nan ***
Poppin’ in another clip
And if they catch me slippin’, least I never duck, man, ***
Ask who the *** I trust
***, I trust me, I could never trust nan ***
Get the switches
Got the *** mixin’ up the fenty
Dirtied up the dishes
Customary, obituary
Put your ass inside a homicide edition
Suck me in the drop on 26s
*** a phone, no videos or pictures
Ask who the *** I trust
***, I trust me, I could never trust these ***, yeah
Help me get away from this godforsaken place I’m in
You should run away if you ain’t really ready for the way I live
It makes my heart break when I see gangsters turn to angels
Yet I’m still grateful, and I would never ever wanna trade it
It’s a lotta
It’s a lotta *** that would probably love to take it
It’s a lotta
It’s a lotta ***, but I wanna see my babies
Help me get away from this godforsaken place I’m in
No flight, I’ll pay the driver to go the opposite way of Vegas
Yeah
*** is scary, obituary
Put your ass inside a homicide edition
Dippin’ in a dunk on 26s
Mixin’ up the fent, we dirtied up the dishes
It’s a lotta
It’s a lotta *** wounds, scars, stitches on my body
*** wanna take the spirit out my body
Took a hit, but I ain’t snitchin’ on nobody
***-ass ***
I done whooped across the map to get a *** whacked across a couple timezones
Diary confessions of a killer, I see dead faces with my eyes closed
Feel like *** never really met a plug, all imaginary Pablos
Diary confessions of a killer, I see dead faces with my eyes closed
It’s a lotta *** *** false-flaggin’ on the gang
Steady duckin’ calls, owe a *** change
On the ‘gram cloutin’ off a ***’s name
It’s a lotta
It’s a lotta
Said it’s a lotta *** fightin’ versus one of me
Before I run off, they gon’ have to *** me
I reminisce on what the *** done done to me
A lotta white-sheet, yellow-tape dreams
When your life a nightmare, you can’t dream
So instead of runnin’ tryin’ to chase dreams
I was making sure the safe clean
It’s a lot of
*** on the state team
Givin’ white sheet, yellow tape dreams
Tie a *** up ’cause I don’t chase dreams
I was making sure the safe clean
It’s a lot
Help me get away from this godforsaken place I’m in
You should run away if you ain’t really ready for the way I live
It makes my heart break when I see gangsters turn to angels
Yet I’m still grateful, and I would never ever wanna trade it
It’s a lotta
It’s a lotta *** that would probably love to take it
It’s a lotta
It’s a lotta ***, but I wanna see my babies
Help me get away from this godforsaken place I’m in
No flight, I’ll pay the driver to go the opposite way of Vegas