Song parody of
The Recipe (feat. Bvnz)
by Cphilly
Here's where you get creative! Use our cool song parody creator to make a totally new musical idea and lyrics for the The Recipe (feat. Bvnz) song by Cphilly.
Simply click on any word to get rhyming words suggestion to use instead of the original ones. You may also remove or alter entire lines if needed — when you're done save your work and share it with our community — have fun!
She gon play her part, why she texting me
We cooking like the rock we got the recipe
Letter boys down ya block be like sesame
And a hitta popping pussy like its ecstasy
She gon play her part, why she texting me
We cooking like the rock we got the recipe
Letter boys down ya block be like sesame
And a hitta popping pussy like its ecstasy
Oh you broke, yeah I know
Designer on my fits walking Gucci's matching coat
Bag packed got a bag for the road
Drop a band on a bitch to let her know
Sizzle dripping sage got Vuitton on my belt
Burberry coat with my pockets looking well
I aint fuckin with no broke boy going dying in a Shell
Try to test me blood got sail
I need bands, I need techs
Why ya bitch trynna say that I'm next
You need sex, I need checks
If you press me boy better wear a vest
Thats ya bae, thats my bestie
Why these pussies always trynna go an test me
She on my wave like a jet-ski
Why ya bitch always trynna give me Becky
She gon play her part, why she texting me
We cooking like the rock we got the recipe
Letter boys down ya block be like sesame
And a hitta popping pussy like its ecstasy
She gon play her part, why she texting me
We cooking like the rock we got the recipe
Letter boys down ya block be like sesame
And a hitta popping pussy like its ecstasy
She gon play her part, why she texting me
We cooking like the rock we got the recipe
Letter boys down ya block be like sesame
And a hitta popping pussy like its ecstasy
She gon play her part, why she texting me
We cooking like the rock we got the recipe
Letter boys down ya block be like sesame
And a hitta popping pussy like its ecstasy
Oh you broke, yeah I know
Designer on my fits walking Gucci's matching coat
Bag packed got a bag for the road
Drop a band on a bitch to let her know
Sizzle dripping sage got Vuitton on my belt
Burberry coat with my pockets looking well
I aint fuckin with no broke boy going dying in a Shell
Try to test me blood got sail
I need bands, I need techs
Why ya bitch trynna say that I'm next
You need sex, I need checks
If you press me boy better wear a vest
Thats ya bae, thats my bestie
Why these pussies always trynna go an test me
She on my wave like a jet-ski
Why ya bitch always trynna give me Becky
She gon play her part, why she texting me
We cooking like the rock we got the recipe
Letter boys down ya block be like sesame
And a hitta popping pussy like its ecstasy
She gon play her part, why she texting me
We cooking like the rock we got the recipe
Letter boys down ya block be like sesame
And a hitta popping pussy like its ecstasy
