Work’s Never Over (Funk Flex Freestyle) - Kid Ink et Raekwon Paroles , lyrics

Paroles de Work’s Never Over (Funk Flex Freestyle) de Kid Ink, Raekwon

Work’s Never Over (Funk Flex Freestyle) est une chanson de Kid Ink, Raekwon pour laquelle les paroles sont ici depuis le 07 mars 2014.

Les paroles de Work’s Never Over (Funk Flex Freestyle) ont été corrigées, cependant, il est possible qu'elles contiennent encore des incompréhensions. N'hésitez pas à prendre contact par mail.

Le clip de Work’s Never Over (Funk Flex Freestyle) est disponible ci-dessous.

Uh, First off, no I ain't soft
Eeny meeny, any one of you will get broke off
Sayin' you the truth nigga look like false
Just talk too much and you look like narcs
More than the king look up to the gods
In my own lane your shit garbage, my shit poppin' your shit Amish
I been grindin', no other option
We ain't even started, still the beginning
Tell them this my shot with a lime and a lemon
It's no more limits it's ho's in my linen
It's ho's in ... all round the city never seen you in it
Back then with a 4X tee and a fitted, riddin' in a bucket but I paid for that shit
Still got it, just dropped thirty K in that bitch
Blunt long as an AK, sprayin' in this bitch
Same nigga since day 1, you gay nigga' switch
When the dough start coming tell em' live is a risk
Talkin' bout bars got life get a grip

I said work's never over, money gettin' older
Never see me walking with a chip on my shoulder
Show price going up, every single quarter
Got you nigga's cornered, call the fuckin' coroner
Out of town, all the time, I'm a foreigner
In a foreign girl, I can transform ya
Reppin' that West side California
Make a wrong turn, your chain in the pawn shop
... ain't playin', nigga's back on they bullshit
Better find an OG and get to payin' dues bitch
I said I'm good in the hood yo
And you nigga's wifen hood ho's
Hold up, said hold up
Me ? Nigga get ran over
Rose up from the roaches
Now I need a crib big enough to fit a boat in motha fucka

Rifles out, beard like the Russians
Octagon tub in the silk drawers, the dutches
Model that clayborne, posing in black sayin' the day gone
Swimmin trunks gold, with the suede on it
The rap version of Frank Ward, the mad cape and ... home in Columbia call me a killa
Fried fish Friday's, fresh to death, waves are sideways
Blunt out, I'm ready to buy ... paper bag stunna
Trench coat 40 on the throat, all I know, take money, wanna ?
Besides bread ... lounges, feet up coolin'
Merlot bottles get blown by the thousands
Heard I was browsing, but I was upstairs
In the room chillin' smoking bout to blow hundred thousand
Real niggas ... remember the family, peace I'm out Ink

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