Day Job

[Hook x2: STS] We play hard, we stay high We work hard, never say die We kill everything, never say why Don't fuck with us, nigga, keep a day job [Verse 1: STS] I'm on my A-Rod, [Balco-buddy?] The flow blacks out, call it Kid Cudi Shit, every bitch love it and see your game tight Meet her at church, and hit the pussy in the same night Bang it like a [gang light?], shorty said my name right Sugar motherfucking Tongue Slim, yup, damn right I ain't got to say I'm nice, you see what the word do That Cali got me high, passing doobies like it's bird flu [Verse 2: Truck North] Uh, fuck what a herb do, we in full swing I come through with an heir that a champ brings Like it ain't bout' nothing, nigga, badda-bing Stay high, stay fly -- kill everything Place bets on man like a poker hand Fly for a lifetime like I ain't never learned to land He a suicide bomber, no exit plan B-boy stance, niggas don't stand a chance [Verse 3: Dice Raw] I'm not playin' with a full deck, let me explain Your house of cards, man, I turn into the house of pain Wake up on fire, and guess who set the flames See me fleeing from the scene, horseback, like Jessie James This ain't the olden days, though, this is modern times You can't rob a stagecoach, we got modern crime Motor crime, judge handing out more than time The blue collar, and the true scholar all combined [Hook x2: STS] [Verse 4: Truck North] Uh, I like my money on time, my women in pairs Shots of tequila, until we're all impaired Money making jam, it's a magical affair Cause when we in there, the bad bitches appear Right out of nowhere, out of thin air And they trying to cut like a barber, no chair Chest all bare, like please sign here North side run the city like a mo'fucking mayor [Verse 5: STS] South side sugar, I'm a mother fucking player Peel my money by the layer Cop my chronic in Decatur Bust your woofers, and your tweeters When I'm speaking through your speakers Spend more money on my reefer than I do when I'm coping sneakers And I'm fresh as fuck, best of luck --now you know you messing up Fucking with them, J-B niggas, ya'll don't want to threaten us I know they ain't testing us, tryna get the best of us Take my number No. 2, and stab niggas through ya' retinas [Verse 6: Dice Raw] You cooking chicken fingers up in Houlihans The Queen of England gave me sixty-million gold bullion There's only a few things I never do again Italianos say that's [one called moulian?] And at the kosher spot, they say I'm a Mitch And up at Def Jam, they say I'm a [sinch?] While driving down the street, kids say, that's a pimp I get the door for your girlfriend, cause' I'm a gent' [Hook x2]