Lyrics:
shake her ass I smack that
Man show it off, I'll pay for that
I'm a boss bitch, what it cost bitch
Got workers, I ain't weighing jack
Margiela with
let you
You at full speed, I'm walking, I still catch you
Mr. Voorhees, good looking, I destroy these
These niggas ain't bosses, they workers
California
I don't got no girlfriend, but got some workers in California
I be in that rover Cannabis California
And I be the prince of my city, bitch where
workers in scrubs with no PPE
But they got money for riot gear, my nigga, we dying here, yeah
You tell me not to move with my gun
But we got more funeral
off
C-town worker, I'm droppin' bags off
Every week the car switch, just left Timberlee, eatin' ackee and saltfish
Where I'm from, it get dark quick
ex-worker, tried to smuggle a half a key
In his left leg, even underwent surgery
They say his pirate limp gave him away
As the feds rushed him, comin'
shit, but we don't need to take it there
I'm a young boss girl, let me upgrade ya
He's a worker, I get work out, what you 'bout girl
Trips to Venice,
shit, but we don't need to take it there
I'm a young boss girl, let me upgrade ya
He's a worker, I get work out, what you 'bout girl
Trips to Venice,
He's in the best selling show
Is there life on Mars?
It's on Amerika's tortured brow
That Mickey Mouse has grown up a cow
Now the workers have
up commercially
I keep it buzzing like I'm a fuckin' worker bee
So I'mma need a couple Gs if you want a verse with me
So let me take your pay check
Now
conglomerate
Just respect my conglomerate
Just respect my conglomerate
Just respect my conglomerate
Workers, bosses, Ferrari's, Porches
Dope fiends' nauseous,
tit for tat
We the niggaz that be known to hit a lick for scratch
Makin money puttin workers on the tit with packs
Don't want no drama with
I'm meeting with Black Tail, you're talking to fakers
I own a factory, my workers are thong makers
Black woman with Carribean shakers
I've been doin'
314 to 617, gotta give it up
Treat my women like a structure, workers work the streets
Twerk ya meat, go get it till it hurts ya feet
Hurt in ya
but the guy's eyes wiggling
And me in the Bruce Lee stance giggling
I rob liquor stores at night when the workers are tired
I run up in that bitch
He loves to think about his girl
The sun is melting half the street
In the summer all the workers head out for the sandy beach
Stay together in
I'm just trying to find some worker to dig my grave
Everybody's listening, everybody's listening, all those eyes are glistening
I need more,
makin' bitch breaker
Purse taker, find me a good worker like a navigator
Drop the slut on the corner with nothing but baby wipes
Keep that pussy clean
a structure, workers work the streets
Twerk ya meat, go get it till it hurts ya feet
Hurt in ya sleep, get wit me and we could ching all night
Hearr the slots
Workers of the World
'Cause, The union was the only friend he had
'Cause, The union was the only friend he had
Now the strikes were bloody
cost
If it's power to the workers then you are the boss
You make bluebells look like moss
Gave a second coat to gloss
And made Lennon's little Ono
and jumping around
Picking up the money tearing the teepee down
A foreman was in panic about to go insane
Trying to get the workers outa the way of the train
never money enough to shod his cold feet
Cold cold cold cold feet
He grew up to be a worker determined to succeed
He made a life for himself, free
you sittin' there tryin' to get your words straight
I bag more dimes than workers at the herb gate
Use tight D, on top of tight G
Want it done
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