[Verse 1]
Far from Jay, but I'm feeling like a great
I ain't Nas, I'm a Bas
I ain't 50, but we rep the same city
Shout out to the niggas, they inspire
Hate a nigga, kiss the canon, I ain't talking no Mariah, blow
Squeeze the trigger 'till it fire nigga how that sound
Higher than a prison barbed wire, but I'll buy a round
Tell my niggas bottoms up, tomorrow's another day
Hope the lawn lady luck, keep the law from out my face
Gimmi space, I can bust at such a rapid pace
Spittin' pace at every which way, until every bit's slain
Bas tryna get cake, till my whole clique paid
Whole clique spit flame
[Pre-Chorus]
Gimmi ten minutes, I write a bomb verse
And niggas try to get me once, so I bomb first
This is my show, not your concert
Truth kills, motherfucker, bet this song hurt
[Chorus]
Yea, it's on
Work, work (work, work)
I said, it's on
Work, work (work, work)
Girl, this your song
Work, work (work, work)
Oh yea, it's on
Work, work (work, work)
[Verse 2]
To the fifth that go to spoils, I'm a spoiled motherfucker
Infect a Nixon, Roley, them my toys, stupid sucker
I'll be shitting on these niggas like a toilet bowl scrubber
And pissing off my bitches, I don't call, I don't love
I ain't slippin, I ain't trippin', boy I always wear a rubber
But them lips, and them hips got your boy in some trouble
So a nigga was to slip, guess a morning I have to drug her
No offence, you legit, probably be a great mother
Bent the number 8 sideways at 18
Got these babies on a highway, acting scene
She a Fiend out the *Fast and the Furious*, X-Rated
And shorty say she bi-curious, the ex made her
[Pre-Chorus]
Gimmi ten minutes, I write a bomb verse
And niggas try to get me once, so I bomb first
This is my show, not your concert
Truth kills, motherfucker, bet this song hurt
[Chorus]
Yea, it's on
Work, work (work, work)
I said, it's on
Work, work (work, work)
Girl, this your song
Work, work (work, work)
Oh yea, it's on
Work, work (work, work)
[Verse 3]
Studio, 26 hours
Go home, hit the shower
Rolling [?], Damn
Feeling so empowered
Where the money, where the cowards
Haters, doubters, these slayers
Please round them up, cause they swear they got the juice (well, we bout to dry 'em up)
Watch these grapes turn to raisin
Cause this flame I got is blazing
Boy it's hot under the sun, why you walk around in blazers
Silly you, silly silly you, that shit isn't cool
In the coupe, got a pretty hoose
Smah it then I deuce
Yea, smash it then I deuce
Fiends, smash it then I deuce
Fiends, smash it then I pass it deuce, fiends
I am such a douche, ho
Sorry I am such a douche, fuck it
Ha ha
[Produced by BBP] [Verse 1] Far from Jay, but I'm feeling like a great I ain't Nas, I'm a Bas I ain't 50, but we rep the same city Shout out to the niggas, they inspire Hate a nigga, kiss the canon, I ain't talking no Mariah, blow Squeeze the trigger 'till it fire nigga how that sound Higher than a prison barbed wire, but I'll buy a round Tell my niggas bottoms up, tomorrow's another day Hope the lawn lady luck, keep the law from out my face Gimmi space, I can bust at such a rapid pace Spittin' pace at every which way, until every bit's slain Bas tryna get cake, till my whole clique paid Whole clique spit flame [Pre-Chorus] Gimmi ten minutes, I write a bomb verse And niggas try to get me once, so I bomb first This is my show, not your concert Truth kills, motherfucker, bet this song hurt [Chorus] Yea, it's on Work, work (work, work) I said, it's on Work, work (work, work) Girl, this your song Work, work (work, work) Oh yea, it's on Work, work (work, work) [Verse 2] To the fifth that go to spoils, I'm a spoiled motherfucker Infect a Nixon, Roley, them my toys, stupid sucker I'll be shitting on these niggas like a toilet bowl scrubber And pissing off my bitches, I don't call, I don't love I ain't slippin, I ain't trippin', boy I always wear a rubber But them lips, and them hips got your boy in some trouble So a nigga was to slip, guess a morning I have to drug her No offence, you legit, probably be a great mother Bent the number 8 sideways at 18 Got these babies on a highway, acting scene She a Fiend out the *Fast and the Furious*, X-Rated And shorty say she bi-curious, the ex made her [Pre-Chorus] Gimmi ten minutes, I write a bomb verse And niggas try to get me once, so I bomb first This is my show, not your concert Truth kills, motherfucker, bet this song hurt [Chorus] Yea, it's on Work, work (work, work) I said, it's on Work, work (work, work) Girl, this your song Work, work (work, work) Oh yea, it's on Work, work (work, work) [Verse 3] Studio, 26 hours Go home, hit the shower Rolling [?], Damn Feeling so empowered Where the money, where the cowards Haters, doubters, these slayers Please round them up, cause they swear they got the juice (well, we bout to dry 'em up) Watch these grapes turn to raisin Cause this flame I got is blazing Boy it's hot under the sun, why you walk around in blazers Silly you, silly silly you, that shit isn't cool In the coupe, got a pretty hoose Smah it then I deuce Yea, smash it then I deuce Fiends, smash it then I deuce Fiends, smash it then I pass it deuce, fiends I am such a douche, ho Sorry I am such a douche, fuck it Ha ha Explain Request ×
Lyrics taken from
/lyrics/b/bas/work.html
