The Game - Work Hard (feat. JT the Bigga Figga, Get Low Playaz) lyrics
[The Game - Work Hard feat. JT the Bigga Figga, Get Low Playaz lyrics]
Get Low Records motherfucker
Bringin the best to the table
Bluechip, Nina B, what it is
JT Get Low motherfucker that's
What it is motherfucker
Yeah, who fuckin with us nigga
Now (what goes around comes around)
I'm puttin this clique up nigga
Against all you niggaz
Now get it right
Hey yo, this is where I see me in this game
Benz Coupe, Maserati
Plus I got your bitch all in the Range
And y'all niggaz ain't gon' do shit
Soon as your crew spit
My tool spit, metal to your side
Watch you lose hips
And I ain't want to take it there
But fuck it we can bang
My Cali headbusters'll show you how
To throw them things
I'm too connected like John Gotti and Nino
For a small fee they find your
Body wreakin out in Reno
I know the niggaz that sell weight
And niggaz that stick the niggaz
That sell weight
Hammer close behind me like when you tailgate
I know you a snitch
I can see it in your eyes
Shackled up, D.O.C.'s
All my niggaz on that ride
You can, stunt if you wanna, Chip is a gunner
Been reignin/rainin since ninety-six
Now it's
Time for the thunder
In your mind you can blame me but
Open your mouth and name me
I'm runnin you out of office you're
Softer than Bush and Cheney
Go 'head
And try to play me I do
You like I was Amy Fisher
Smokin a Swisher like I wish a bitch would
Listen and use your vision cause
Livin in this - hood
And sinnin in your division you
Think it's all - good
Got niggaz on
(Death Row) and it ain't about Suge
Niggaz that stay home they scared
To come out shook
Mothers with five kids and all
Of 'em got took
It's right in these niggaz face
But they just will not look
I'm tired
Of the B.S. I'm cheatin some rejects
Even though we make the best
Of what little respect
We get
This is the life, that was given to me
A rich-ass bitch that's what
I'm fittin to be
Brooklyn to Bangkok I'm beggin to be
And don't nobody write
What I'm spittin but me
Nina B
We 'bout to blow this bitch
Niggaz work hard in the game
So they notice this
What
We 'bout to blow this bitch
Niggaz work hard in the game
So they notice this
What
Underground with it, poppin collars now
Bust yo' shit nigga, put them guns down
Put yo' knuckles up, catch you slippin dawg
That's how we do it independent
Now we 'bout to ball
For years niggaz sold me dreams
That got me gassed
Made me want to get revenge
Or get the hockey mask
Got beef? Yo the burner's
In the lobby stashed
Get your crew if you want
All them niggaz is probably ass
I take the long way, fuck takin the shortcut
Now we got corporate sponsorships
Wrappin our tour bus
A quick 32, yo them shit's is like warmups
It ain't coincidental in the hood
We was born tough
You chump or get chumped, punk or get punked
Save your lil' craps homey
Fuck it get drunk
Was one at the top
But now I'm back at the bottom
Most 'em hate to spit with me cause
When I rap I surprise 'em
Shit is real
That's why I stay strapped with a condom
I keep 31 flavors just like Baskin & Robbins
I'm here now, y'all supposed
To be stressed
Scared to death
That you gonna be next, record labels
Promote the rejects
While starvin artists is closest to sets
And certain niggaz duckin me because
They owe me a check
I spit more heat, than a bowl of chili
Y'all niggaz know the deally
So turn the music up and roll a Philly
Yeah, roll the Philly or Swisher Sweet
And I ain't trippin while you niggaz
Just stand on your feet
Figgaro done walked in the building
It's time to expand
Comin with hundreds of grands
And hundreds of plans
You see this Black Wall Street is
For the po' broke and hongry
None of my niggaz on the
Corner never be lonely
Stuck in the gutter mayne
Coke packs like Tony
Bricks and pounds of weed half
The city owe me
My shipment too big, frontin out the homies
I ain't even trippin mayne
My pockets never lonely
Benjamin Franklins and Grants
Stick together like
Boys in tough weather makin noise forever
Ahhhh
Yeah mayne
It's real shit nigga and
We independent nigga
Fuck what'chu heard dawg
Independent is where the money is at nigga
Fuck all your major labels nigga
That's what it is
JT the Bigga Figga, Nina B
Bringin the best to the table
Bluechip, Nina B, what it is
JT Get Low motherfucker that's
What it is motherfucker
Yeah, who fuckin with us nigga
Now (what goes around comes around)
I'm puttin this clique up nigga
Against all you niggaz
Now get it right
Hey yo, this is where I see me in this game
Benz Coupe, Maserati
Plus I got your bitch all in the Range
And y'all niggaz ain't gon' do shit
Soon as your crew spit
My tool spit, metal to your side
Watch you lose hips
And I ain't want to take it there
But fuck it we can bang
My Cali headbusters'll show you how
To throw them things
I'm too connected like John Gotti and Nino
For a small fee they find your
Body wreakin out in Reno
I know the niggaz that sell weight
And niggaz that stick the niggaz
That sell weight
Hammer close behind me like when you tailgate
I know you a snitch
I can see it in your eyes
Shackled up, D.O.C.'s
All my niggaz on that ride
You can, stunt if you wanna, Chip is a gunner
Been reignin/rainin since ninety-six
Now it's
Time for the thunder
In your mind you can blame me but
Open your mouth and name me
I'm runnin you out of office you're
Softer than Bush and Cheney
Go 'head
And try to play me I do
You like I was Amy Fisher
Smokin a Swisher like I wish a bitch would
Listen and use your vision cause
Livin in this - hood
And sinnin in your division you
Think it's all - good
Got niggaz on
(Death Row) and it ain't about Suge
Niggaz that stay home they scared
To come out shook
Mothers with five kids and all
Of 'em got took
It's right in these niggaz face
But they just will not look
I'm tired
Of the B.S. I'm cheatin some rejects
Even though we make the best
Of what little respect
We get
This is the life, that was given to me
A rich-ass bitch that's what
I'm fittin to be
Brooklyn to Bangkok I'm beggin to be
And don't nobody write
What I'm spittin but me
Nina B
We 'bout to blow this bitch
Niggaz work hard in the game
So they notice this
What
We 'bout to blow this bitch
Niggaz work hard in the game
So they notice this
What
Underground with it, poppin collars now
Bust yo' shit nigga, put them guns down
Put yo' knuckles up, catch you slippin dawg
That's how we do it independent
Now we 'bout to ball
For years niggaz sold me dreams
That got me gassed
Made me want to get revenge
Or get the hockey mask
Got beef? Yo the burner's
In the lobby stashed
Get your crew if you want
All them niggaz is probably ass
I take the long way, fuck takin the shortcut
Now we got corporate sponsorships
Wrappin our tour bus
A quick 32, yo them shit's is like warmups
It ain't coincidental in the hood
We was born tough
You chump or get chumped, punk or get punked
Save your lil' craps homey
Fuck it get drunk
Was one at the top
But now I'm back at the bottom
Most 'em hate to spit with me cause
When I rap I surprise 'em
Shit is real
That's why I stay strapped with a condom
I keep 31 flavors just like Baskin & Robbins
I'm here now, y'all supposed
To be stressed
Scared to death
That you gonna be next, record labels
Promote the rejects
While starvin artists is closest to sets
And certain niggaz duckin me because
They owe me a check
I spit more heat, than a bowl of chili
Y'all niggaz know the deally
So turn the music up and roll a Philly
Yeah, roll the Philly or Swisher Sweet
And I ain't trippin while you niggaz
Just stand on your feet
Figgaro done walked in the building
It's time to expand
Comin with hundreds of grands
And hundreds of plans
You see this Black Wall Street is
For the po' broke and hongry
None of my niggaz on the
Corner never be lonely
Stuck in the gutter mayne
Coke packs like Tony
Bricks and pounds of weed half
The city owe me
My shipment too big, frontin out the homies
I ain't even trippin mayne
My pockets never lonely
Benjamin Franklins and Grants
Stick together like
Boys in tough weather makin noise forever
Ahhhh
Yeah mayne
It's real shit nigga and
We independent nigga
Fuck what'chu heard dawg
Independent is where the money is at nigga
Fuck all your major labels nigga
That's what it is
JT the Bigga Figga, Nina B