putting in twork - papoose lyrics
we be puttin’ in twork
we be puttin’ in twork
come around frontin’ in the hood and get murked
cause we be puttin’ in twork
i was born gangsta your sh-t is rehe-rs-d
we’re in the hoopdy swervin
cause we on our way to put that twork in
mothaf-cka suck a d-ck drinking and cursing
[verse 1]
all i need is one mic, i always was dumb nice
but f-ck the politics, we can have a gun fight
you be in the club hype, spendin’ chicken plus rice
you don’t send the homies out, but you claim the blood life
when the big homies catch you they gon’ put out your light
cause they doin hard time and you ain’t send em one kite
cut from a different cloth, you n-ggas ain’t cut right
man i’m from the jungle where the lions and the cubs bite
just like tragedy khadafi said, son right
before you bring a n-gga in you gotta know his blood type
man i live the thug life, hit you in the mug light
bang, sleep tight, don’t let the graveyard bugs bite
if there’s money in your city we be there comin’ down
f-ck hugging the block, we be bear huggin’ towns
a lot of n-ggas is claiming the wear the f-ckin’ crown
but they ain’t nothin’ but a bunch of weird f-ckin’ clowns
i’m aggravated, ready to air something out
on that buck shot shorty sh-t, yeah buck ’em down
wearin’ them skinny jeans, weird f-ckin’ styles
lookin’ like a fool with your pants on the ground
since he always talking about what he trapping
trap his -ss off and hit up with the magnum
it walk like a duck and when it talks it’s quacking
then dammit it’s a duck, no joking and laughing
when you interviewing a man, why you don’t ask ’em
if money is your motive, no jewelry, you should be stacking
why you beef with rappers if you don’t possess p-ssion?
and if you ain’t nice, then why the f-ck is you rapping?
claim what you claim, then why you never flagging?
actin’ like you tuff, but know you soft as a napkin
i was gettin’ money, re’n-up and baggin
since n-ggas was in the game room playing double dragon
ya’ll complaining they need to make his bid shorter
the n-gga doin’ less time than that b-tch martha
he gon’ tell me i shouldn’t make my sh-t harder
i’m dropping street smarts, he needs to get smarter
i threw my hennessey in his face, this drama
i threw more alcohol in his face than his barber
my worker don’t answer the phone when your clique holla
they know he sellin’ dimes, they’re bringin’ ’em 6 dollars
so i’m an outsider, and you an insider
but you like switchin sides, you a switch sider
he my son, he should pay homage to his father
or i’mma do ’em dirty, like hopkins did tarver
they say he a millionaire, he an impostor
he ain’t got that money, he eatin’ off his sponsor
ya’ll funny like monique and her big daughter
not when she was in precious, when she was mrs. parker
when a cop act too ?thirsty to get callous?
we make a memorial service in his honor
i’m a beast, how you gon’ put this monster
in comparison with him, he a dish washer
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