Criminalz - Puttin in Work lyrics

Published

0 158 0

Criminalz - Puttin in Work lyrics

[Verse One - Jayo Felony] This that one hit it quit it sh**, f** it forget a b**h These busters claimin they hard but they be rollin wit a snitch They got this bullsh** case on me and they thinkin it'll stick I ain't sweatin that lil sh**, give these b**hes a lil dick I keep ridin and mashin, stompin in the West Coast fashion You the one to be the first get yo head bashed in We stay smashin n***a only beleivin is achievin So whatever we set out to do it's gon work this evening I'm a rider homie whether I'm drunk, high or sober The wait is over, now watch a n***a get nasty as King Cobra And I heard your freaky b**h was a monster on the dick She wanna find out if she can put her whole tonsils on the dick Loc on and yolk on it but don't choke on it n***as got her spendin all their ends and goin broke on it Tell these hoes listen b**h we ain't gotta please you Cuz we puttin in work, doin sh** that G's do and it's true [Chorus] I ain't livin my life to please you I'm puttin in work the sh** that G's do I'm out doin dirt to n***as I need to I'm gettin my money on, collectin my revenues [x2] [Verse Two - Celly Cel] Back up, back up n***a what the f** you doin? I'm throwin elbows in this mutha f**a tryin to ruin Your whole career, when I'm twisted up eight hundred beer Jump in the mob car and steer, heart pumpin no fear You n***as don't know me, watch out 'for I pop out with this Glock out Clearin yo block out, got all these n***as wishin they got out The game, 'for I shot out everything in the parking lot out Got em snitchin and tellin em there's APV's on every cop out Now it's hot out, they still can't stop me from gettin my paper I got hide outs, these b**hes is out here catchin the vapors Flee the scene, they shoulda told you that Celly was crazy Got em pushin up daisies now I'm layin low with baby Spyin on the under, wonderin what's gon happen next Money, murder and s** got me sleepin with a tech No respect so I took it early in the game No money til I came up on them birdies, mayn [Chorus 2x] [Verse Three - Spice 1] Got me f**ed up baby see I can't play with the game This n***a's speakin up on my casket, talkin bad on my name Don't get it twisted it's all love but this gangsta sh** is real n***as get caught up in the drama and end up k**ed But I can't have that sh**, I ain't tryin to see no coffin That's why I stay focused on hatin a** n***as often Hennesy got me seeing enemies in threes So I'm bustin at the one in the middle and please beleive It ain't no hesitation, never no glitch in my matrix I stay on point, ready to dump, hit n***as up in they faces Wit 4-4 slugs! Blowin n***as up out they Lugz Switch to the bucket and smash off to mo thug Baby, my life ain't got no price on it 600 for the vest, a G for the chopper wit a knife on it So welcome to the ghetto mutha f**a To them n***as that think that they can't be touched well I'ma touch ya [Chorus x 4]

You need to sign in for commenting.
No comments yet.