Work Hard Lyrics - West Coast Resurrection - Game

Get Low Records motherfucker 

Bringin the best to the table 

Bluechip, Nina B, {?}, what it is 

JT Get Low motherfucker that's what it is motherfucker 

Yeah, who fuckin with us nigga 

Now (what goes around comes around) 

I'm puttin this clique up nigga against all you niggaz 

Now get it right 

Hey yo, this is where I see me in this game 

Benz Coupe, Maserati, plus I got your bitch all in the Range 

And y'all niggaz ain't gon' do shit, soon as your crew spit 

My tool spit, metal to your side, watch you lose hips 

And I ain't want to take it there but fuck it we can bang 

My Cali headbusters'll show you how to throw them things 

I'm too connected like John Gotti and Nino 

For a small fee they find your body wreakin out in Reno 

I know the niggaz that sell weight, and niggaz that stick the niggaz 

that sell weight, hammer close behind me like when you tailgate 

I know you a snitch, I can see it in your eyes 

Shackled up, D.O.C.'s, all my niggaz on that ride 

You can, stunt if you wanna, Chip is a gunner 

Been reignin/rainin since ninety-six now it's time for the thunder 

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In your mind you can blame me but open your mouth and name me 

I'm runnin you out of office you're softer than Bush and Cheney 

Go 'head, and try to play me I do you like I was Amy Fisher 

Smokin a Swisher like I wish a bitch would 

Listen and use your vision cause livin in this - hood 

And sinnin in your division you think it's all - good 

Got niggaz on (Death Row) and it ain't about Suge 

Niggaz that stay home they scared to come out shook 

Mothers with five kids and all of 'em got took 

It's right in these niggaz face, but they just will not look 

I'm tired, of the B.S. I'm cheatin {?} some rejects 

Even though we make the best of what little respect, we get 

This is the life, that was given to me 

A rich-ass bitch that's what I'm fittin to be 

Brooklyn to Bangkok I'm beggin to be 

And don't nobody write, what I'm spittin but me 

Nina B 

Photos 

We 'bout to blow this bitch 

Niggaz work hard in the game so they notice this, what 

We 'bout to blow this bitch 

Niggaz work hard in the game so they notice this, what 

Underground with it, poppin collars now 

Bust yo' shit nigga, put them guns down 

Put yo' knuckles up, catch you slippin dawg 

That's how we do it independent now we 'bout to ball 

For years niggaz sold me dreams that got me gassed 

Made me want to get revenge or get the hockey mask 

Got beef? Yo the burner's in the lobby stashed 

Get your crew if you want, all them niggaz is probably ass 

I take the long way, fuck takin the shortcut 

Now we got corporate sponsorships wrappin our tour bus 

A quick 32, yo them shits is like warmups 

It ain't coincidental in the hood we was born tough 

You chump or get chumped, punk or get punked 

Save your lil' craps homey, fuck it get drunk 

Was one at the top, but now I'm back at the bottom 

Most 'em hate to spit with me cause when I rap I surprise 'em 

Shit is real, that's why I stay strapped with a condom 

I keep 31 flavors just like Baskin & Robbins 

I'm here now, y'all supposed to be stressed, scared to death 

that you gonna be next, record labels, promote the rejects 

While starvin artists is closest to sets 

And certain niggaz duckin me because they owe me a check 

I spit more heat, than a bowl of chili, y'all niggaz know the deally 

So turn the music up and roll a Philly 

Yeah, roll the Philly or Swisher Sweet 

And I ain't trippin while you niggaz just stand on your feet 

Figgaro done walked in the building, it's time to expand 

Comin with hundreds of grands and hundreds of plans 

You see this Black Wall Street is for the po' broke and hongry 

None of my niggaz on the corner never be lonely 

Stuck in the gutter mayne, coke packs like Tony 

Bricks and pounds of weed half the city owe me 

My shipment too big, frontin out the homies 

I ain't even trippin mayne my pockets never lonely 

Benjamin Franklins and Grants stick together like 

Boys in tough weather makin noise forever, ahhhh 

Yeah mayne, it's real shit nigga and we independent nigga 

Fuck what'chu heard dawg, independent is where the money is at nigga 

Fuck all your major labels nigga, that's what it is 

JT the Bigga Figga, Nina B