Work Hard

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