Chill (Lark Chillout Mix)

[All Verses : Large Professor] It was a long days work, you could finally cool out And relax, and kick back, and look on to the perks Of that nine to five, you stayed alive and strived Each day, to make it happen up until you reach pay Now its time, deposit your grip and grow That dream that you've been having since a minute ago With miles and miles of smooth road jogging dials Lots of options, you eating fish, no crab or lobsters Not an issue, god is with you You've done good, your voice power under the hood Is amazing for blazing trails into the uncharted Part of life that everyone under the sun is startled by The beating of the heart don't die Cause I'm multi, sharper than a suit and a bowtie Still, you got to get back to seal the deal Yeah, you know that you've got to work But you know that also that (You gots to chill) Your cold feet up, you worker read up Things is good, shit is selling like hot cakes You the king of hood Everybody got dough from slinging pot to blow The block is a goal, and no pocket is low Time to fall back, get out of this Do remain anonymous Don't let the greed got you into a lot of shit That's the good word, my man, just acknowledge it Time will make every dirty dollar legit Its a shame you had to go that route, but you can throw that out You got low, now you can go back out Enjoy the fruits of your labour, from scooping all the paper That wasn't nailed down, fuck hanging around Till the boys come taking you away for that poison Locking you up, letting you out when you like forty-something Your empire's already built, you getting all the bread, yeah But you that one day (you gots to chill) (I just want to chill) 4x Look at you, looking all nutty like a cashew Running around, man, somebody goin' smash you Frightened or not, you need to slow down You moving too fast like a Rubik's cube, all mixed up Got your chest poked out, boy, you Mr. Bigstuff Just the other day you were talking 'bout shits tough In the hood, where you be at But now, where you be at Around all them biatches, acting like biatch A wise man told me I told you so You be handsome, leave your pay for your children so Our God is the greatest whatever date it is On the slate kid, I put time like a state bid Now I'm home free, at the door holding the key Opening the door, that these ain't home for me Still the one real, ice cold Brooklyn wheel While I'm looking fucked up in the grill (You gots to chill) ...yeah man ...large pro ...word up ...straight up ...ready? ...one, two ...here we go ...aite