Wurk

Racks all in my ceiling Home decor is dripping We eating like thanksgiving And I can't lie I fucking love the work And I ain't even have to touch the work Bitch claiming she'ont need me But she won't fucking leave me I make this shit look easy And I can't lie I fucking love the work And I ain't even have to touch the work I can move this shit with my eyes closed Hands tied with a blind fold You get tired after serving junkies While I get off of them blocks whole Wholesale, get it mail Really big bells that'll break yo scale Big weight, ain't no clientele For a career change, hit my personnel Imports, got a guy at customs For a little nothing, we can keep 'em comin' Ernesto, he supply the Prada, like a vintage model Really big pinatas Paper longer than an essay Hugo, Juavir, and Jefe Vacating out in Bombay Got the work sitting in a cafe Work falling off the bone nigga Cop you a brick before its gone nigga Don't hit me up, trying to get a biscuit We ain't serving no scones nigga Work falling off the bone nigga Cop you a brick before its gone nigga Don't hit me up, talking 'bout a feature Hell nawl, I ain't doing no song with ya Racks all in my ceiling Home decor is dripping We eating like thanksgiving And I can't lie I fucking love the work And I ain't even have to touch the work Bitch claiming she'ont need me But she won't fucking leave me I make this shit look easy And I can't lie I fucking love the work And I ain't even have to touch the work