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work - f.t. hop out lyrics

imma jog tho
i ain’t even gon’ run
(dominic did it)
(imma jog)
imma jog, cuase i ain’t gon’ chase you (okay)
i ain’t gon chase you okay

(?? you done did this sh*t again)

i used to get my ass whooped
for takin too many steps backwards, like *
young blood active
guess what the lawyer told the pastor
it’s gon’ take way more than satisfaction

i’m in class with this tooly on me
cuase after school
n*ggas waitin by the exit for me
i gotta shoot, then imma shoot
imma let the 40
flip em upside down
like we flippin quarters
i call it get like me

watch you know about it *
waking up next to the (neck?) (‘scuse me)
on the bus passin through the sеt (n*gga)
chains up on my hip
chained up to the neck (‘scusе me)
tryna tell a b*tch to hurry up and book her next figure
you ain’t wanna f*ck me back then
you wanna f*ck me now!
hoping that a n*gga drown *
when you throw me that p*ssy now
(bang a n*gga?) shut it down
i was taught to get it like
305 in my city
bangin (drake?) when i was thuggin like
if i had a house up in the hills * still ain’t livin’ right
all because i used to kick them type of doors in at night

used to work the stove
whip the dope until i get it right
feelin like it’s meant to be
i ain’t ask for this type of life

it started in the (bail tank?)
me and (dusty roo?) from the west
it was quiet
so i started making beats with my chest
after that * i hit the set and turned the hood up
i’m the life of my section on the hood huh?

whoever thought he’d be a rapper
i don’t talk about the fly sh*t
the type of sh*t i want that i ain’t got yet
you n*ggas be on nonsense
n*ggas can’t adjust to my environment
drugs to make the boy momma violent
now he tryna go viral
playin’ hot potato with the same gun
he used to be right outside the house he got his name from
throwing up gang signs like r.i.p
if you can’t fix it then it’s broke *
that’s just how i see it

blood so big gave her d*ck
longer than (fig?)
ain’t got no kids
the way i f*ck, should have twins
(get off?) my sh*t
you bussin guns that got no kick
pocket watching as n*gga
better watch that b*tch

whoever thought he’d be a rapper
it’s a marathon, runnin laps
too slow can’t keep up
they got his ass overlapped
used to shake hands back then
now i give em daps
way more than disrespectful
never said i owed you that

we play
like green bay
f*ck a stripper
this the real game, levis, true religion *
we want balmain, ralph lauren
ridin horses through the hallways
me and three shooters (chris paul day?)
(now these f*ggots?) want a spot so bad
they broke, they choking
hoping that they get they chance
i know you, know you
you ain’t really bout no action
focus * focus
bick back protect your craft (chyeah)

- f t hop out lyrics

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