Eddy Baker & Celes Karter In the Kitchen with No Jumper lyrics

[Intro: Eddy Baker + Xavier Wulf + Celes Karter]
You see that
That's a staple of the OnSomesh*t brand
You that n*gga, hahahahahaha
We off the dome, freestyle
Yeah

[Pre-Verse 1: Celes Karter]
Yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah
Yeah
I got Baker in the back rolling up
Yeah
Uh, yeah
Woah, let that sh*t ride
Yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah
Healthy Boyz Cartel
Free [?]
Yeah, rock
Uh

[Verse 1: Celes Karter]
I just hit for around eleven-teen bricks
Hoe, I can't wait, I gotta go get it
Get away car, skr, that's a Honda Civic
Uh, I don't got no heart for a hoe ass n*gga
I don't got a dime for a broke b*tch
Hoe this game ain't free and you know this
I don't got no love for the weak, yeah
I don't got no love for police, yeah
I'm outta town, every week, and over sleeping
Binge drinking, I don't want your hoe
Cause she be Soundcloud eating
I just popped a geeker
Can't f*ck your b*tch, she a tweaker
You n*ggas is some leakers
I'm on No Jumper
I'm not Lil Pump-er
Put the gauge in your mouth, I'mma squeeze
Guaranteed, n*ggas drop to their knees
b*tch please, Celes please
Please don't squeeze
When I pull up, all these n*ggas on freeze, uh
When I pull up, all your b*tches on me, uh
If they on the team, even want Jeffery
I do not know, uh, why they blow my phone up
Yup, b*tch, hold up
Got my neck froze up
Yuh
[Break: Celes Karter]
They know how I'm coming
Healthy Boyz 2017
All off the head
They know what it is
Yeah, yeah
Baker come rock this sh*t out

[Pre-Verse: Eddy Baker]
Alright, b*tch
Alright

[Verse 2: Eddy Baker]
b*tch I just roll
Hang out with my bros
I'm f*cking these hoes
I'm killing my foes
I'm dodging the po
My n*gga got gold
Around his neck
Young n*gga getting the check
Money, power, and respect
b*tch, I pull up with the TEC
pus*y n*gga get wet
Young n*gga get the checks
Young n*gga get the cash
Got the drugs in the dash
b*tch you know that I'm rolling
Drugs on me, I'm holding
Passenger Kelly Rowland
Fat ass, big ass titties
Know we stay, with the Whitney
Young n*gga, yeah, I spit silly
And you know, give her wet willies
Up in her ear
Hot like a lear
I have no fear
b*tch
I'm drunk off a beer
Drugs everywhere
I'm up in the trap
I trap and I rap
The real is back
b*tch, don't get, hit with the gat
pus*y ass n*gga
You is a rat
And that is a fact
Put a pus*y ass n*gga up in the box like Jack
If I can't stash the drugs in my nuts, then I stash it in my hat
Young n*gga got a bunch of drugs up in the backpack
I'm rocking designer
This sh*t ain't from China
This sh*t is from Italy
Bottle b*tches, they be digging me
Ay, ay
G like Biggie be
G like Biggie Smalls
Boss n*gga not tall
Yeah, I want it all