Lyrics:
things for yourself
Came home from work early, Mr. Loverman
You had a card and some candy in your right hand
There's the mailman, he was short yet stout
I bet there's some killers who die for me
Catch a body on they free will
My West Coast niggas ride for me
Word to the homie G Will
Dollar sign,
beers in the year of '05
It was kind of loud, but the crowd began to thin out by around about nine
I met a man named Ricky, more he drank the more his
up above
cause the mania
hysteria
in the streets
while ya lovers gettin merrier
in the sheets
I met this lady named
sweet young thing and
she gave me
got a pair of legs and my hands are for my beats
She sighed and shook her head, turned around and said to me
That the greatest thing she wanted me
better find somebody else
Slide and Shit will get slippery
Hit'em dead in his back like Ricky
We giving out bullets and caskets this year so Merry
me, thought they gunna stop me
Meat get tossed like Hibachi
Keyboard gangstas talking shit Cal shake em
Keep a full clip that's a cast of Statham
For
wanted to spend
I'm buyin' VVS diamonds for all of my kin
She wanna take me to the room, get out all of her sense
It's no adoption, shawty, you can take
fucked
And it will probably be fucked
By the time that you wake up
You got me and I got you
So let's do the only thing
That we know how to do, and survive
the things I know
I've seen the world on the picture screen in a video
People and strangers I've met on the street
Friends who held me up so that I could see
will recognize my worth
Saved by Grace and not by Works
These just some things I affirm
I'm above and not beneath
Shows the love you got for me
You're my
haven't heard
But y'all bitches will
Believe me, I got two for three
Four for five
Holla at cha' boy if ya need me
And bitch I'm out
Now if ya gave me
Sitting here crunching numbers working for a boss
Work your ass off, any work you cross
Take a break for some lung cancer pull it deep
Your eyes are
uncles get high, and cats get pealed
My guys will deal with him, he got no rhythm
So let the steel hit him, we speaking jail diction
Hoe work and day
bottles of Ciroc
And bowls of red grapes members of
Meek's entourage
Old friends who he now semi-employs
For a variety of unspecific tasks
Drift in and out
recording new shit then I've
Got to like stall her out
For a second because she makes me
Too happy shit won't work out
On the final verse of the last
Song
to kill every nigga
That stand by him or speak for him
Can you stop actin' like you
Doin' me a favor? Do I seem rattled?
This idiot don't even know he tell
day to go now working for
Every day is work,
Oh work
Work
Work out to all
Work out to all
Said I know we can
We can make it work
Hit me
We
(woo)
I'ma hire an assistant to make her write it for me (ayy)
This is me against the world, that's the mood I'm in (goddamn)
Hop up out the fucking
you're in a relationship, the easiest thing for you to do is to leave
You gotta stick it out and work it out and stick it out and work it out
And stick
'cause it's a hit
Or stay at home alone 'cause ice will be workin' it
[Chorus]
Work it, work it, work it, work it, work it, work it, work
It, work
Baby come and talk to me
Together we can work this out
We gotta love thing
We're talkin' about
The way you looked at me
Tell me you're sorry
and whiskey tonight
Ricky said 'She's out of your league, let her go'
As I watched you pick your partner on that old dance floor
I know it didn't work out
According to a recent tweet by Iggy Azalea
"Diss songs shouldn't be filled with
Celebrity name drops to pad out lazy bars"
I beg to differ
Rihanna
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