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Work Work

This song is by clipping., features Cocc Pistol Cree and appears on the album CLPPNG (2014).

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Holler out your city if you ride for it
Let 'em know why you die for it
Same reason all these riders get high so it's
All medicinal now what you wanna buy, homie?
Bye bitch, mob shit
Boss talk, game rich
Name game, gang signs
Work on the phone, call it baseline
Yup, line dance like a hoedown
Pimps up daytime, whole block a ghost town
Ghost ride, ghost face
G's get ghost in a moment
Pour a little for the ghosts of the dead homies
Deadpan voice singing Tin Pan Alley songs
Panhandling in front of tourists with the camera phones
Get it how you live or live till you get it, get it in

When the stash low and it's no cash, get it in
And you ridin' no L's, no tags, get it in
And she lookin' like you ain't gon' smash, get it in
But she got her legs up on the dash, show these haters how to

(Go) Get that work, make that work work
(Go) Get that work, make that work work
(Go) Get that work, make that work work
(Go) Get that work, make that work work

Cocc Pistol, uh
I get it, I whip it, I flip it, I pocket the profit
Don't know when to stop it
They callin' me Griselda the harlot
My Blahniks erotic, can't walk the heel is enormous
The arm in the armrest
Click clack, these dames is dormant
I came up from boosting my garments
Switching my handbags, how I switching my polish
Never catch me in the same blouse, unless I'm running to Target
Never catch me in a large crowd, unless I'm the life of the party
Uh, I been hitting from September to August
Ahead of my time like little old ladies and bonnets
All I need is a sickle I'mma reap me a harvest
The hardest thing I had to do was to make a real promise
Uh, I been countin' money since elementary
That's why these broke boys ain't gettin' into me
And when the stash low and it ain't no cash flow
Shit I go to work, move it by the boat load

When the stash low and it's no cash, get it in
And you ridin' no L's, no tags, get it in
And she lookin' like you ain't gon' smash, get it in
But she got her legs up on the dash, show these haters how to

(Go) Get that work, make that work work
(Go) Get that work, make that work work
(Go) Get that work, make that work work
(Go) Get that work, make that work work

Stop, red lights in the distance
You never been to that district they reference
Trunk full of hashish and mescaline, your mind is a mess and this bitch is undressin', you
A, mash on the throttle like a G
Put a bottle to your teeth, say fuck it, you're a free man
B, pull over to the side of the street
Keep your hand on the shotty sitting up under the seat or
C, let the cop pull you over
Say something slick on some Jay-Z 99 Problems type shit
D, all of the above in your head
But it really doesn't matter 'cause you already dead
No obituaries for the most part
Nobody cares you are not even a co-star
Just an extra, they read about it as a number
Names got money in their wallet, oh

When the stash low and it's no cash, get it in
And you ridin' no L's, no tags, get it in
And she lookin' like you ain't gon' smash, get it in
But she got her legs up on the dash, show these haters how to

(Go) Get that work, make that work work
(Go) Get that work, make that work work
(Go) Get that work, make that work work
(Go) Get that work, make that work work

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