I Got Work - OJ Da Juiceman

In the kitchen once again

I done gave the dope a (?)

Quarter brick, half a brick, tell me what you wanna spend

Half a pound, whole pound, even plugged in with the mid

Thousand pills and thousand seals

Fuck you niggas, come again

I got work (work, work, work, work)

I got work (work, work, work, work)

I got work (work, work, work, work)

I got work (work, work, work, work)

I got work

80 baby crazy

In this kitchen with Patrick Swayze

And the yay is dirty dancing and it’s white like (?) nigga

I just bought a mansion way before the rap advances

Michael Jackson with the work cuz I make the J’s start dancing

All this guacamole, got my pants on MC Hammer

Smoking on that gas like a nigga got cancer

They say bands a make her dance, so i turned her to a dancer

(?) with the bags, got me riding on Prances

(?) under gas (?)

Quarter brick, half a brick, whole brick, a couple schedules

Prada head to toe, so I’m dancing with the devil

(?) with the swag, something like a space shuttle

Rock band drums, so I’m blasting heavy metal

32 Ent, we got keys just like Rihanna

All my young nigga with me, using sticks and bandannas

All my young nigga around me, using sticks and bandannas

(?) shoe walking

Put a hole in your head like a dolphin, nigga

J wanna hit (?), nigga

No (?) I got salts, young nigga

Gucci Mane, Lo with an (?)

Jewelry look like a cold icicle

Came a long way from (?)

With Pollo and then with Hillfiger

Finger fuck the money with my trigger finger

You know I keep white like that nigga Justin Bieber

Made the birds sing like a R&B singer

Posted in the trap with a brand new (?)

Brand new paint looking like wet pussy

Bouldercrest nigga with the bomb and them bushes

Call me (?), gotta keep them cookies

(?) bright to all gold Rollie

Sixteen gold, twenty two carat trophy

2014, got a (?) on Forgis

All this trap money (?)

Pounds of the white, you can call a nigga Tony

Trap with the testament, judgement Rollie

Turn up, turn up, them I done roll it

If it ain’t gas, you know I don’t smoke it

If it ain’t a thirty, you know i ain’t toting it

Thirty one shots so you know my clip loaded

(?) slam niggas like a fur named Coby

Shouts out to my fur dawg named Chloe

(?) dollar named baby girl Courtney

Pockets on green, so I’m walking with a Breitling

You know i keep a Glock like my nigga Charlie (?)

(?) shoulder sloppy

Peacot sweat, (?)