Get A Job

Well, I'm riding round the Benz truck with fake friends

Word, here they come now, yo Ricky lend me couple lenses

For lunch and all of that, I got to listen to this nonsense

What the hell Crumb, don't you have a conscience?

I'll treat the vogue, get the gold, chuck a heat in gear

Don't understand it 'til the blood sucker beat it

I see my doc, I'm said, "yo, doc, how's the health there?"

Don't worry 'bout these pretzel muthas acting like your welfare

Word to parasites, tell me, hasn't it ever occurred of

Stand on your own two, please, I never heard of

By the window in the bathroom, that one did it

Got a dress like a brother, then both of them will quit it

Potential is intelligent and it's me you wanna rock

Hey, half cent hookers trynna act like snobs, get a job

You want a damn hood? No, here she go

I'mma gonna try, here to try it

Rick, my baby needs pampers, so buy 'em

Come on take me to Pizza Hut, work class cow

What would your man say if he could see your slut ass now

For five bucks, cool window while she drives

Barely missed him, pissed him

Dissed him, turn up the system

You ought of treat, that's the dinner

I'm hungry, said her daughter

She tried to crawl behind home

And heat bread and water

A rich girl, don't like, I said he's always the best

Yea, whatever, no question, project destined

Yo, what the hell is with you people, are you all incoherent?

Fifty years old and still you living with your parent?

Not a break to breathe, yell on the phone

Take all I own, everything, and leave me the hell alone

Word up, now shorty rock steals her ride

For you half cent hookers trynna act like snobs, now get a job

Reserve my hotty, it's the not, used to buying pearls

Please drive me across the whole entire world

My new man still can't work and he ain't too bright in math

Like it's my fault he couldn't manage money like that

Survive with your man, I didn't say grind the strife

And even worse when they never heard of 9 to 5

And you can't be gentle or they get all sentimental

I don't work for white people, well, work for Oriental

Her baby's mother, her friend, that's why plenty get killed

I'm in Peru, kids hurt and I need twenty mil

I lost my wallet, son, sorry grams, lost mine too

Lonely on the step, but still I have a cold heart

So on the spot, is one horny old fart

Word thinking he intelligent, it's me you wanna rock

And all you half cent hookers trynna act like snobs, get a job