Текст (слова) песни: Game - Work Hard Feat Jt N Get Low

(feat. Get Low, JT)

[JT]
Get Low Records motherfucker
Bringin the best to the table
Bluechip, Nina B, {?}, what it is
JT Get Low motherfucker thats what it is motherfucker
Yeah, who fuckin with us nigga
Now (what goes around comes around)
Im puttin this clique up nigga against all you niggaz
Now get it right

[Verse One: Bluechip]
Hey yo, this is where I see me in this game
Benz Coupe, Maserati, plus I got your bitch all in the Range
And yall niggaz aint gon do shit, soon as your crew spit
My tool spit, metal to your side, watch you lose hips
And I aint want to take it there but fuck it we can bang
My Cali headbustersll show you how to throw them things
Im 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 its time for the thunder

[Verse Two: Nina B]
In your mind you can blame me but open your mouth and name me
Im runnin you out of office youre 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 its all - good
Got niggaz on (Death Row) and it aint about Suge
Niggaz that stay home they scared to come out shook
Mothers with five kids and all of em got took
Its right in these niggaz face, but they just will not look
Im tired, of the B.S. Im 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 thats what Im fittin to be
Brooklyn to Bangkok Im beggin to be
And dont nobody write, what Im spittin but me
Nina B

[Chorus: JT]
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
Thats how we do it independent now we bout to ball

[Verse Three]
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 burners 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 aint 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 Im back at the bottom
Most em hate to spit with me cause when I rap I surprise em
Shit is real, thats why I stay strapped with a condom
I keep 31 flavors just like Baskin & Robbins
Im here now, yall 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, yall niggaz know the deally
So turn the music up and roll a Philly

[Verse Four: JT]
Yeah, roll the Philly or Swisher Sweet
And I aint trippin while you niggaz just stand on your feet
Figgaro done walked in the building, its 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 aint even trippin mayne my pockets never lonely
Benjamin Franklins and Grants stick together like
Boys in tough weather makin noise forever, ahhhh

Yeah mayne, its real shit nigga and we independent nigga
Fuck whatchu heard dawg, independent is where the money is at nigga
Fuck all your major labels nigga, thats what it is
JT the Bigga Figga, Nina B [fades out]
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100 Barz And Gunnin
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Church For Thugs
Dreams
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Hate It Or Love It
Higher
How We Do
Intro
Krush Groove Feat Jt N Get Low
Like Father, Like Son
No More Fun And Games
Promised Land
Put It In The Air Feat Sky
Put You On The Game
Rookie Card Feat Jt
Special
Start From Scratch
The Documentary
The Streetz Of Compton Feat Jt
Troublesome
Untold Story Feat Jt
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Work Hard Feat Jt N Get Low