Lyrics:
On stage rapping (ew)
Ain't shit to me, I'm a rapper that's what I do (hey)
Young Dave snappin' (woo)
The crowd seem to fuck with me and I like
private eye
Every week, check stubs to show the judge I got a job
Damn this; Soopaman used to stack them chips
Now I'm broke cause little kids
I'm a big excavator
No matter what the job I'll get it done
With my big bucket and my big hand
I got a big bucket and a big hand
I'm a big excavator
yourself)
If you can't find love (by yourself)
Then how you going to find yourself?
Love is the only thing can get you outta trouble
You living life,
road'll get you home (c'mon!)
If you see it in their eye when they try to lie
If you the bullet-hole-in-a-stop-sign kind
Then I'm right there wit'cha, put
Hotel
Where Nancy and Sid Vicious
And my friend Dave once dwelled
The street was black under my feet
Which continued their walkin'
Though I was vaguely
to de man dem call Ice Cube (bo! bo!)
And a bust a deuce-deuce or trey-eight bout to get wicked!
One, two, three and I come with the wicked
Style
Gettin' by
By the way can I hitch a ride
Gettin' by
Saving dollars and my dimes
Gettin' by
Dead broke but I don't cry
Pockets' got a hole and I don't
got me smokin' big weed wit yo baby mommie.
[Chorus]
40,
Y'all better our name ain't reefa,
Or I be hittin mo bank jobs than Latiffa,
Get
referee
On the pro level
Gold diggers get graves dug
Preferably wit their
Own shovel
You're always too blunted
To get jobs you smell bad
You smokin tree I
a chemical daze
But do you really wanna turn out like Dave
Another day, oh joy another hole
Yeah make good use of your money from the dole then
Get home in
squirm
But I'm a team player so I waits my turn
And when I get the rock I'm going straight to the hole
My average per game is pure black soul
In the 13,
Yo yo, it's your boy Dave East man
Ayo MAK11, talk that shit
This right here is Candle
Harlem to Canada
I done told em what it is
I still want me
along on tour
Just to have a good time
Or paying Calamity Jane five-thousand
Dollars to be heckled
By twenty thousand macho boys in Argentina
Or asking my
the look in my eyes
Ever since a teen, I fiend to get high
I sell coke and sell weed to get by
Round stay fly, B steak fine
All over the scene, and scream
Uncle Ricky
Would you read us a bedtime story?
Please, huh? Please?
Alright, you kids get to bed
I'll get the story book
Y'all tucked in? (yeah)
Uncle Ricky
Would you read us a bedtime story?
Please, huh? Please?
Alright, you kids get to bed
I'll get the story book
Y'all tucked in? (yeah)
hole in his pocket and I pointed it out and I was like, why don't we just get you another pair of slacks?
And then he looked at me and said, Because we
no job
Pushing in my momma van, stop for gas on Rosecrans
Trust me these niggas rushed me for something my cousin probably did
Guilty by association
throw the blower in his lap
Walk myself to the court like, "Man
I did that!" ain't no Black Power when your
Baby killed by a coward
I can't even keep
I heard steve Jobs got some
AIDS and died, and he
Left behind billions of dave Matthews fans
I heard good ol' Steve
Joined the flowers, grass
In the beginning was The Word and The Word was with God
Then He came to me and said ni--a get on your job
You gots to write your way out (no
you hot as hell
I'm just tryna show you off can't keep all that to myself
Let them niggaz get a glimpse of you walk by and leave ya smell
Lotus flower
involved
Black man get on yo' job!
"Well clap your hands to what he's doing
On tempo Jack"
Let's go beat for beat, and rhymes for rhymes
(Put, all,
.jpg/250px-Inside_Job_(2021_TV_series).jpg "Inside Job")
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