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Artist: DJ Khaled f/ Bas, J. Cole
Album:  Suffering From Success
Song:   Hell's Kitchen
Typed by: Cedmaster3K

[Intro: DJ Khaled]
Cole World... DJ KHALED!

[J. Cole]
Yeah, back from the dead like Michael Jackson in red jackets
with naps in my head; who's white or black? It's a rare package
Get smacked if you said that I'm neck and neck with these square rappers
My guest room's got plantinum plaques, and an air mattress
No time for furniture shopping, too busy burnin' you
Watchin' you, learnin' you, word to Pac, I'm plottin' to murder you
Sure the thought can occur to you; my next album flop
then I'm goin pop, like Nelly with tops dropped on convertible Porsches
+Born Sinner+, not burnin' no crosses
Might burn a couple bridges, I'm losing by double digits
I gotta do somethin', fightin' depression I'm tryin' my nigga
But everytime I think about it I'm cryin' my nigga
Cried myself to sleep on thousand dollar sheets
I reak of the scent of a vendetta that's deep
I'm playin' for keeps, but you ain't think I'd bounce back
They love to hear black nigga count stacks, count stacks

[Chorus: J. Cole]
Forty thousand in my pocket - you see it
Another twenty on the way - you see it, ay
I got a fish for a dollar - you see it, uh
Five hundred for the J's - you see it, ay
I get money out the ass - you see it
I thought I'd never see the day - you see it, ay
They put a price on my head - you see it
But they don't ever have to pay - you see it, ay...
I fell down on my knees and yeah I praaayed...
Cause heaven seems a million miles a-waaay...
I dreamed of all the things that I would saaay... on that day
But for now I'm cookin' up in hell's kitchen, hell's kitchen
Nigga fuck you and your fake well wishin'
Now get out of hell's kitchen, hell's kitchen
Tell my story I'm just hopin' they'll listen
Cookin' up in hell's kitchen, hell's kitchen
Nigga fuck you and your fake well wishin'
I'll get out of hell's kitchen, hell's kitchen, one day... hey

Yeah.. omission's usually, an admission to guilt
Hari Kari yourself, all the way to the hilt
You get nothin', no love - zip, zero, zilch
We don't mention you lames, man I be pleadin' the fifth
There's a Judas in every crew, concealed in a kiss
Kiss of death, let's put the rest all to tedious bits
Fucks sake you niggas emanate a feminines traits
Bitch nigga when could never relate
Nah, cause man you niggas is birds
You learn that at bird school, or somethin'
You eaten that bird food, or somethin'
You sick with that bird flu, or somethin'; that's my word, cause every where I turn
When folks I known for years, that couldn't pronounce my name
And askin' me for pics, there's something bout this game
It's somethin' for the bitches...
It's somethin' for the bitches...