Frying Pan

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This pan is hot, it's sizzling, so turn it as you please
To mix and match ingredients with chef-like expertise
To live a life of earnest truth is anything but bland
Ooh weee, whats that smell, what you got cookin' fam?

Good Lord, hot damn, look what I'm cooking in my frying pan
Good Lord, hot damn, look what I'm cooking in my frying pan
No more, no less, with what we cookin' man we stayin' blessed
Good Lord, hot damn, look what I'm cooking in my frying pan

Growing slowly, lengthening, it's teeming to the limb
First in demand, then candy land, that's how this tale begins
Your stoop was fine, we learned with time, a king up on his phone
Ooh, we want said smell, this handle my aplomb

Good Lord, hot damn, look what I'm cooking in my frying pan
Good Lord, hot damn, look what I'm cooking in my frying pan
No more, no less, with what we cookin' man we stayin' blessed
Good Lord, hot damn, look what I'm cooking in my frying pan

I took a few years off, to grow my arm
Now I'm back in the saddle while I sing this song
Said you gotta go back to the glory days
When Nirvana was my idol, pay phones delays

When a young runt hailing out of ABQ
Met a vato hit the streets and now we're sittin' on stoop
Saying Ooh, weee what's that smell
Black bag full of trees, and a prerogative to sell

Good Lord, hot damn, look what I'm cooking in my frying pan
Good Lord, hot damn, look what I'm cooking in my frying pan
No more, no less, with what we cookin' man we stayin' blessed
Good Lord, hot damn, look what I'm cooking in my frying pan

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