BRIKOLAI VOLKOFF Lyrics – Westside Gunn

Read the full BRIKOLAI VOLKOFF lyrics by Westside Gunn along with the music video, song credits, release information and other details about the song. If you enjoy Westside Gunn’s music, you can also explore GLOWREALAH and PRICK, two other songs by Westside Gunn.

[Intro: Westside Gunn]
Rrah, rrah, rrah, rrah, rrah (Grrt), rrah (La música de Harry Fraud)
Yeah, yeah (Grrt, grrt)
Fu*king boogeyman, n!gga
Rrah, rrah, rrah, rrah, rrah, rrah, rrah, rrah (Grrt)
Rrah, rrah, rrah (Pray this cure ain’t gone long time, n!gga), rrah, rrah, rrah, rrah, rrah, rrah (Grrt, Super FlyGod)

[Verse 1: Westside Gunn & Stove God Cooks]
Ayo, call me God, for sure
I’m from the East side where we shoot s*it (Rrah, rrah, rrah, rrah, rrah, rrah, rrah, rrah)
If he gotta go, he gotta go
In a pot deep, elbows touching

(??) for the last rock, now you’re on crutches (Ah)
’26 GT, I did a hundred just to wake it up (Skrrt)
(??) had the A twirling, I had to shake it up (Wha, ha-ha-ha-ha)

[Chorus: Stove God Cooks]
You broke, you pu*sy (Woo)
If they ask you if I’m still cooking, tell ’em, “You broke, you pu*sy” (Tell ’em, don’t tell ’em nothing)
If they ask you if I’m still cooking, tell ’em (Woo, no, no, no, no), “You fag’, you pu*sy” (Brrt, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no)
If they ask you if I’m still cooking, tell ’em no (Woo)
But I can get it to you whole, thirty-six Oz, if you touch the ham of the Louis comb, b!tch, you owe me (Woo, b!tch, you owe me, woo)

[Verse 2: Stove God Cooks]
If they ask you who run s*it, you better have it set up (You better said me)
Go to war wi— You better have your bread up (Brrt, bap, bap, bap)
Fu*k around and get wet up (Brrt, bap, bow)
Put so much money on your top, ‘Pac can’t help you keep your fu*king head up (Ha-ha-ha-ha)
Amalfi Coast in the big row
We was trying to buy 30’s, said I only got ten on me (I did, yeah)
Believed it when they said they didn’t owe me (Woo)
Why would I be talking to them n!ggas? I was dropping work on they big home (Woo)
Half an ounce in the water just to test it (Keep going)
Courtside, powder on the triple lashes (Keep going)
Fu*k Prince on a brick, I ain’t lost a step
All these killer rappers, I might put ’em together and wear ’em to the Met (Ah, huh)

[Chorus: Stove God Cooks]
You broke (Brrt), you pu*sy (Bap, bap, bap, woo)
If they ask you if I’m still cooking, tell ’em, “You broke, you pu*sy” (Tell ’em, don’t tell ’em nothing)
If they ask you if I’m still cooking, tell ’em (Woo, no, no, no, no), “You fag’, you pu*sy” (Brrt, bap, bap)
If they ask you if I’m still cooking, tell ’em no (Woo)
But I can get it to you whole (Get it), thirty-six Oz, if you touch the ham of the Louis comb, b!tch, you owe me (Woo)

[Outro: Stove God Cooks & (??)]
B!tch, I’m Luther Vandross with a brick
S*it’s hundred on my neck
Fu*k’s wrong with these n!ggas, Griselda (Griselda)
I got a cross on my stomach from that random old shooting
N!ggas tryna kill me, what the fu*k I’m doing?
Tryna get to it, got me hit in the leg
Tryna take me out, make yo’ pu*sy ass mad
One for the head of a chest in the leg
Baby girl wanna fu*k the best, that’s your bae
Talking to my muthafu*king n!gga, get you hit
Forty-five slugs coming out the chamber quick
I should’ve told you now that you don’t want no beef
Solitary side, holla n!gga in the (??)
When you play a .9, n!gga, you gon’ feel the heat
Thirty fu*king rounds as I put ’em straight to sleep
F-L-I-P, fu*k, if you know the name
OG Issa Flip, boy, I’ll blow your, blow your brain