[Intro]

Yeah, aye we finally here nigga

I like to introduce ya to my band

One of 'em name Mr. Pyrex, Mr. Pot, Mr. Baking Soda (Ha)

Know what I mean?

It go live from the kitchen

Li-li-live from the kitchen

It's just me and my bands

Li-li-live from the kitchen

It's just me and my bands

Baking soda test tube pot and the pans

[Verse]

Live from the kitchen, well overdue

Ten mixtapes and I got a Porsche in Bancoup

Yeah, that bitch got four doors, I got four hoes

On my screwed up click shit, got me tippin' on forty fours

Yeah, they ran in my spot, them bitches kicked down both doors

Confiscated both of my choppas and took pictures of both stoves

Gang tags been on my ass, yeah, they raided both my shows

Ayy, I'm wearin' too much white, I told 'em I represent that blow

Li-li-live from the kitchen, it's just me and my bands

Shit get for real, niggas start playin'

I don't need a hundred niggas, its just me and my mans

Too deep in that Regal, red beam on that Eagle

You gone lie 'bout it or die 'bout it 'cause 'yeen going with me neither

LIve from the kitchen, that's just a statement

Got that kush shit by the bells, and bitch I'm live from the basement

Got that purp and I can taste it, my time don't you waste it

Niggas think they can start some beef and then come back and erase it

I got Benjamin on my faces, I got lawyers fightin' cases

You know me vs war buggs bunny in my braclets

Bitch I'm live the jury just bought a roller and a pen

A frank nere, is you a dealer or a user?

Baby momma had grape, she like streets niggas, she say I amusing her

Live-li-li from the kitchen, fucking bitches on the dishes

Bend her over on the counter, right in front of the money counter

She was laying against the refrigerator in case I get some

That's a old word, I got old birds

I got old breads, these bitches small heads

I don't trust niggas, I say they all fed

We in war with niggas and I want 'em all dead