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$weet-t & $kid (rapper) - work lyrics

[intro]
(ooh, sh+t, that’s a danny g beat)

[verse 1: $kid]
my priorities f+cked up, i’m still takin’ drug trips
if we ain’t trappin’, then who think is?
i’m on the seventy+first floor with the plug eatin’ squid
had to cut into irene, she pulled up with her kid
they want me in the stu’ gettin’ stuck in the spid
buffs on my face same price as a big
book me for a show, we got the chop at the gig
darell ran off, dutch let two out the sig
chain on my neck cost a few of them ounces
‘bows, coke and lean, we got a few of them houses
how you talk about the work but ain’t never been around it
new dope in left the junkies astounded
smokin’ peanut b+tter, sellin’ b+tter with my brother
my biggest fear in life is that my play’s an undercover
trappin’ and wrappin’, ’til i get a crib with the butler
they gave unky a hundred years, he got caught with the stuffer
got some red in, i need a hundred a line
pressed so many pills, i need my own design
my fiend buy the extra standin’ next to the sign
i’m in the whip with $weet, bump and grind to shine

[verse 2: $weet+t]
b+tch, it’s big $weet, i smash hoes then i block ’em
drop two on the buffs and i barely even rock ’em
heard dog sold his buffs ’cause he hit rock bottom
heard you tryna cop a bird, my whole flock got ’em
hoes be cryin’ over $weet, but it don’t matter to a thug
i’m at the colosseum coppin’ them party platters with the plug
just ’cause they call me $weet don’t mean i’m a sweet jugg
my arp the same size as 42 dugg
pocket got a book of blues from servin’ blues to kelly
benihana off the highlands, put a ticket in my belly
pendant came from hutch, chain came from kamal
i man up chains from the raw, yours came from the mall
chili cheese fries foggin’ up my buffs
my junkie doin’ soft, but he sleepin’ in the rough
i got undercovers runnin’ up askin’ for the stuff
pourin’ slop in my pop, i ain’t sippin’ on no duff
i need my jeans custom fit for the money and the mags
havin’ dutch hit the plug like, “put the money in the bag”
four grams in the ‘wood, junk askin’ for a drag
your squad don’t get no money, it’s funny and it’s sad

- weet t kid rapper lyrics

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