Make It Work (feat. Wale & Rick Ross)

歌詞

Rolling, we're rolling! Yeah! [Chorus] Riding with the stick, puffing on the purp Overtime on you niggas, going to work! I'm going to work, I'm going to work Overtime on you niggas 'cause I'm going to work I'm gonna get it any means necessary 'Cause you know I'm 'bout my paper like a secretary I'm going to work I'm going to work I'm going to work Gotta go to court tomorrow, DA on my dick So I'mma wear my Audemar, just to make her sick I might go yellow prezi on her, just to make her pissed Then go home and break a brick and break it down to bacon bits I'm going to work I'm going to work The phone's popping, like we on the first We up in Neiman's, we going berserk A nigga cross me, he going to church Ridin' through the hood, back of the 'Bach Started in the front, now they in back of the back No love for the haters, no rap for the rats Velcro shorty, we strapper than strapped, work Half you niggas telling so we never sell em work They don't wanna come and get it then we mail em work Put my money in it so you know it better work And my shooters with me so you know they put it work [Chorus] I might go buy a boat tomorrow, just to take a trip Big belly rude boy, bad Jamaican bitch Or head straight to Colombia, I'm talking Bogotá Ship em up to Philly, Milly living like he Gorbachev Not the Reagen Era but a nigga making cheddar ? and I'm never telling The game sweet soda, seats watermelon Clip full of sunflower seeds in my Mac-11 And I study motherfuckers like a student felon Book bags full of blocks and those bitches selling I'm going to work I'm going to work I'm going to work I'm going to work [Chorus] Got some youngins that'll murder for a new bike Have you looking like you're fresh up out a food fight Spaghetti on your head, shirt ketchup red Shooting banana clips, we ain't ever scared Niggas say they looking for me, they ain't ever there I'm like a Metro Phone Store 'cause I'm everywhere I'm gone get it any means necessary 'Cause you know I'm 'bout my paper like a secretary Gave my nigga fifty years, forever buried He said he gon' make it home like he never worried Free my homie Rick, and free the homie Brick Doin' hard time, love the 36 Tried to get her number, shorty she ain't know me then She wanna fuck me now, I'm like you dirty bitch Rookie of the year, 'cause I murder shit In them way back, 'cause it's Maybach [Chorus]