kid ink – work’s never over (funk flex freestyle) lyrics
[verse 1: kid ink]
uh, first off, no i ain’t soft
eeny meeny, any one of you will get broke off
sayin’ you the truth n-gga look like false
just talk too much and you look like narcs
more than the king look up to the gods
in my own lane your sh-t garbage, my sh-t poppin’ your sh-t amish
i been grindin’, no other option
we ain’t even started, still the beginning
tell them this my shot with a lime and a lemon
it’s no more limits it’s ho’s in my linen
there’s holes in your story you been telling for a minute
been all round the city never seen you in it
back then with a 4x tee and a fitted, been riddin’ in a bucket but i paid for that sh-t
still got it, just dropped thirty k in that b-tch
blunt long as an ak, sprayin’ in this b-tch
same n-gga since day 1, you g-y n-gga’ switch
when the dough start coming tell em’ live is a risk
talkin’ bout bars got life get a grip
[verse 2: kid ink]
i said work’s never over, money gettin’ older
never see me walking with a chip on my shoulder
show price going up, every single quarter
got you n-gga’s cornered, call the f-ckin’ coroner
out of town, all the time, i’m a foreigner
in a foreign girl, i can transform ya
reppin’ that west side california
make a wrong turn, your chain in the p-wn shop
streets ain’t playin’, n-gga’s back on they bullsh-t
better find an og and get to payin’ dues b-tch
i said i’m good in the hood yo
and you n-gga’s wifen hood ho’s
hold up, said hold up
me? n-gga get ran over
rose up from the roaches
now i need a crib big enough to fit a boat in motha f-cka
[verse 3: raekwon]
rifles out, beard like the russians
octagon tub in the silk drawers, the dutches
model that clayborne, posing in black sayin’ the day gone
swimmin trunks gold, with the suede on it
the rap version of frank ward, the mad cape and the sword
home in columbia call me a k!lla
fried fish friday’s, fresh to death, waves are sideways
blunt out, i’m ready to buy [?] paper bag stunna
trench coat 40 on the throat, all i know, take money, wanna?
besides bread max in lounges, feet up coolin’
merlot bottles get blown by the thousands
heard i was browsing, but i was upstairs
in the room chillin’ smoking bout to blow hundred thousand
real n-ggas wiling, f-cking on the balcony styling, remember the family
peace i’m out ink
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