Luyện nghe bài hát Work Hard

Get Low motherfucker
the best to the table
Bluechip, B, {?}, what it is
JT Get Low motherfucker that's it is motherfucker
Yeah, who fuckin with us
Now (what goes comes around)
I'm puttin this clique up nigga against all you
Now get it

One: Bluechip]
Hey yo, this is where I see me in game
Benz Coupe, Maserati, I got your bitch all in the Range
And y'all niggaz ain't gon' do shit, soon as your crew
My tool spit, metal to your side, watch you lose
And I ain't want to take it there but fuck it we can
My headbusters'll show you how to throw them things
I'm too connected like Gotti and Nino
For a small fee they find your wreakin out in Reno
I know the niggaz that sell weight, and niggaz that stick the
that sell weight, hammer close behind me when you tailgate
I know you a snitch, I can see it in your
up, D.O.C.'s, all my niggaz on that ride
You can, if you wanna, Chip is a gunner
Been reignin/rainin since ninety-six now it's for the thunder

[Verse Nina B]
In your you can blame me but open your mouth and name me
I'm runnin you out of you're softer than Bush and Cheney
Go 'head, and try to play me I do you I was Amy Fisher
Smokin a Swisher like I wish a would
Listen and use your vision cause in this - hood
And sinnin in your you think it's all - good
Got on (Death Row) and it ain't about Suge
Niggaz that stay home they scared to out shook
Mothers with kids and all of 'em got took
right in these niggaz face, but they just will not look
I'm tired, of the B.S. I'm cheatin {?} rejects
Even though we make the best of what respect, we get
is the life, that was given to me
A rich-ass bitch what I'm fittin to be
Brooklyn to I'm beggin to be
And nobody write, what I'm spittin but me
B

JT]
We 'bout to blow bitch
Niggaz work hard in the so they notice this, what
We 'bout to blow this
Niggaz work hard in the game so they this, what
Underground it, poppin collars now
Bust yo' shit nigga, put them down
Put yo' knuckles up, catch you dawg
That's how we do it now we 'bout to ball

Three]
For years niggaz me dreams that got me gassed
Made me want to get revenge or get the hockey
Got Yo the burner's in the lobby stashed
Get your crew if you want, all them niggaz is ass
I take the long way, takin the shortcut
Now we got corporate sponsorships wrappin our bus
A quick 32, yo them is like warmups
It ain't coincidental in the hood we was born
You chump or get chumped, or get punked
Save your lil' homey, fuck it get drunk
Was one at the top, but now I'm back at the
Most 'em hate to with me cause when I rap I surprise 'em
Shit is real, why I stay strapped with a condom
I keep 31 flavors just Baskin & Robbins
I'm here now, y'all supposed to be stressed, scared to
that you gonna be next, labels, promote the rejects
starvin artists is closest to sets
And certain niggaz me because they owe me a check
I spit heat, than a bowl of chili, y'all niggaz know the deally
So turn the up and roll a Philly

Four: JT]
Yeah, roll the or Swisher Sweet
And I ain't trippin while you just stand on your feet
Figgaro walked in the building, it's time to expand
Comin with hundreds of grands and of plans
You see Black Wall Street is for the po' broke and hongry
of my niggaz on the corner never be lonely
Stuck in the mayne, coke packs like Tony
Bricks and pounds of half the city owe me
My shipment too big, frontin out the
I even trippin mayne my pockets never lonely
Benjamin Franklins and Grants stick together
Boys in weather makin noise forever, ahhhh

Yeah mayne, it's real shit nigga and we independent
Fuck what'chu heard dawg, is where the money is at nigga
Fuck all your labels nigga, that's what it is
JT the Bigga Figga, B [fades out]