Get a Job

[Verse 1] They tell me find a job, but a nigga cannot survive off a 9 to 5 Selling nicks and dimes won't cut it And now a nigga buzzing So I'm looking for a budget Cuz your sister and your cousin Hear and want to start cutting Until I'm nutting Trying to get to the top I ain't even press a button It's nothing Pack two duffel bags with cash Gotta work out my muscles Take them to the dealer so I can leave with two muscle cars Eating mussels in a bar Bitch, I'm so bizarre So far, then what you can fathom, I want to be living large No fucking strings attached, I do not play guitar No more being lenient, I'm trying to raise the fucking bar With a couple bars And chilling, fucking with a couple stars Niggas know that the flow is harder than dried tar My God Played daily on many iPods And fuck around niggas will get split in half like a pie chart My niggas don't play no fucking games homie I'm driving persistent, listen I got my own lane, homie Ask them what they want, tell them what we got, that fucking flame homie Your bitch running loose, you better get that ho tamed homie Got no time for these impostors I'm smoking ganja, patiently waiting for the pasta For the munchies I see why these other niggas is grumpy Balling but their bitch fucking with a rapper, Kris Humphries [Verse 2] Slow down P, ya killing them Leaving them in the dirt from 11th Ave to 1st Trying to make it to heaven, but still build up my worth It's like I'm a drug dealer, fiends looking for that work Sex, money, and drugs The root of evil but its what gets honeys to love Til they bless money above I'm sonning these niggas like I got a tummy to rub God bless my unborn, he'd probably grow up to be a thug If I kept him in the hood, shit When he turns 16 he should be living good Riding around without a hood I never been trash or a drag, no Michael Clarke Only time I go back on my words is when I recycle bars, nigga See I've been rapping for a minute now So I know we about to make it, tell my homies simmer down I know it's been a while Searching for that spinach now Gunning for the summer, so I'm lamping in the winter, how Many niggas you know rapping now How many of them biting on another rappers style How many of them really gonna make it rapping, now These fake Gs repping red like they're kappas, wow Fuck out of here, you niggas phony Don't deserve the spot you own, my niggas died from holding the grip Rest in peace my nigga Allen Just a young nigga wilding Til' the pigs took him down, shit