| 
 
"Work Hard"
 (feat. Get Low, JT)
 
 [JT]
 Get Low Records motherfucker
 Bringin the best to the table
 Bluechip, Nina B, {?}, what it is
 JT Get Low motherfucker that's what it is motherfucker
 Yeah, who fuckin with us nigga
 Now (what goes around comes around)
 I'm puttin this clique up nigga against all you niggaz
 Now get it right
 
 [Verse One: Bluechip]
 Hey yo, this is where I see me in this game
 Benz Coupe, Maserati, plus I got your bitch all in the Range
 And y'all niggaz ain't gon' do shit, soon as your crew spit
 My tool spit, metal to your side, watch you lose hips
 And I ain't want to take it there but fuck it we can bang
 My Cali headbusters'll show you how to throw them things
 I'm too connected like John Gotti and Nino
 For a small fee they find your body wreakin out in Reno
 I know the niggaz that sell weight, and niggaz that stick the niggaz
 that sell weight, hammer close behind me like when you tailgate
 I know you a snitch, I can see it in your eyes
 Shackled up, D.O.C.'s, all my niggaz on that ride
 You can, stunt if you wanna, Chip is a gunner
 Been reignin&rainin since ninety-six now it's time for the thunder
 
 [Verse Two: Nina B]
 In your mind you can blame me but open your mouth and name me
 I'm runnin you out of office you're softer than Bush and Cheney
 Go 'head, and try to play me I do you like I was Amy Fisher
 Smokin a Swisher like I wish a bitch would
 Listen and use your vision cause livin in this - hood
 And sinnin in your division you think it's all - good
 Got niggaz on (Death Row) and it ain't about Suge
 Niggaz that stay home they scared to come out shook
 Mothers with five kids and all of 'em got took
 It's right in these niggaz face, but they just will not look
 I'm tired, of the B.S. I'm cheatin {?} some rejects
 Even though we make the best of what little respect, we get
 This is the life, that was given to me
 A rich-ass bitch that's what I'm fittin to be
 Brooklyn to Bangkok I'm beggin to be
 And don't nobody write, what I'm spittin but me
 Nina B
 
 [Chorus: JT]
 We 'bout to blow this bitch
 Niggaz work hard in the game so they notice this, what
 We 'bout to blow this bitch
 Niggaz work hard in the game so they notice this, what
 Underground with it, poppin collars now
 Bust yo' shit nigga, put them guns down
 Put yo' knuckles up, catch you slippin dawg
 That's how we do it independent now we 'bout to ball
 
 [Verse Three]
 For years niggaz sold me dreams that got me gassed
 Made me want to get revenge or get the hockey mask
 Got beef? Yo the burner's in the lobby stashed
 Get your crew if you want, all them niggaz is probably ass
 I take the long way, fuck takin the shortcut
 Now we got corporate sponsorships wrappin our tour bus
 A quick 32, yo them shits is like warmups
 It ain't coincidental in the hood we was born tough
 You chump or get chumped, punk or get punked
 Save your lil' craps homey, fuck it get drunk
 Was one at the top, but now I'm back at the bottom
 Most 'em hate to spit with me cause when I rap I surprise 'em
 Shit is real, that's why I stay strapped with a condom
 I keep 31 flavors just like Baskin & Robbins
 I'm here now, y'all supposed to be stressed, scared to death
 that you gonna be next, record labels, promote the rejects
 While starvin artists is closest to sets
 And certain niggaz duckin me because they owe me a check
 I spit more heat, than a bowl of chili, y'all niggaz know the deally
 So turn the music up and roll a Philly
 
 [Verse Four: JT]
 Yeah, roll the Philly or Swisher Sweet
 And I ain't trippin while you niggaz just stand on your feet
 Figgaro done walked in the building, it's time to expand
 Comin with hundreds of grands and hundreds of plans
 You see this Black Wall Street is for the po' broke and hongry
 None of my niggaz on the corner never be lonely
 Stuck in the gutter mayne, coke packs like Tony
 Bricks and pounds of weed half the city owe me
 My shipment too big, frontin out the homies
 I ain't even trippin mayne my pockets never lonely
 Benjamin Franklins and Grants stick together like
 Boys in tough weather makin noise forever, ahhhh
 
 Yeah mayne, it's real shit nigga and we independent nigga
 Fuck what'chu heard dawg, independent is where the money is at nigga
 Fuck all your major labels nigga, that's what it is
 JT the Bigga Figga, Nina B [fades out] 
            
 
HATA BİLDİR
 
 
		
        
        
        
         
         
         
         
        
        
					 | 
				
			
Yorum Yapın