Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Doin' My Job, artist - Aceyalone. Date of issue: 03.10.2005
Song language: English
Doin' My Job |
| Yeah, hah |
| Aceyalone, 2K6 |
| Yeah, one time for your mind |
| Two times for the rest of your life |
| Yeah, uh, get some, get some |
| Let’s get busy, yeah |
| I’m in the crib with the radio cranked up |
| Loud as the world but nobody else can hear it |
| I spit lyrics over beats with the break-up |
| Listen to the hook while they’re screaming out wake up |
| You gotta move through the world like you own it |
| I’d never known it to be such a thing of the past |
| Love life, let it love you back |
| I think fast, that’s why I think I’m out of your class, c’mon |
| Tennis shoe pimps, part time players |
| Preachers on a soapbox lead us in a prayer |
| I know you wouldn’t lie in my face, you wouldn’t dare |
| No it ain’t fair, three of a kind can be the pair, yeah |
| But I’m a jack of all trades, gotta back 'em off |
| Lead 'em if they wanna come but it ain’t no slackin' off |
| Like to lay low 'til it starts crackin' off |
| Give 'em more than enough time to get they mackin' off |
| Yes God, I’m doin' my job |
| I got a squad of soldiers who are ready to mob |
| We find one foreign tongue, we rip you apart |
| The ancient art of healing baby, give me your heart |
| Yes God, I’m doin' my job |
| I got a squad of soldiers who are ready to mob |
| We find one foreign tongue, we rip you apart |
| The ancient art of healing baby, give me your heart |
| Oh yeah, papa’s got a brand new bag |
| And old drag of coach swag, zig or zag, yeah |
| What a dilemma tryna be a swimmer |
| Crossin' a river without a boat, tryna deliver these notes |
| I’m just a messenger, don’t dig with the message |
| You better get it where I got it, show you right where I left it, and if |
| You think we ain’t on the brink of somethin' new, I’ll give you somethin' to do, |
| now don’t blink |
| When all my hokies call me, no one should be able to hold me |
| They sew me out and try to control me, they frontin', they phony |
| And in one split second it’s a glimmer of light |
| 'Member the masters, power of people unite |
| I ain’t never been on a level without any honor |
| I ain’t interested in givin' up so don’t even bother |
| While others tend to drown, you can wade in the water |
| You gotta try harder and know exactly what you a part of, c’mon |
| Yes God, I’m doin' my job |
| I got a squad of soldiers who are ready to mob |
| We find one foreign tongue, we rip you apart |
| The ancient art of healing baby, give me your heart |
| Yes God, I’m doin' my job |
| I got a squad of soldiers who are ready to mob |
| We find one foreign tongue, we rip you apart |
| The ancient art of healing baby, give me your heart |
| All year, all year, it’s here, here |
| I know some of y’all better just steer clear |
| Got a hundred tons of funk when I dunk, I ain’t drunk |
| And I’m runnin' over roadkill, dogs and deers |
| Yeah don’t stop, don’t pause, switchin' gears |
| I veer left, fear death, not eyes and ears |
| I ain’t got a problem runnin' right into your barricade |
| Breakin' down the wall in my life, I ain’t afraid |
| Can’t get enough but I take what I need to marinate |
| And be with the goddess of singing, a beautiful serenade |
| The rope cutter, hope dealer, gorilla |
| But I will sputter, I’m from the gutter, the long strutter |
| This is the era of the perfect era |
| Yeah, get some |
| Aceyalone, Project Blow |
| Yes God, I’m doin' my job |
| I got a squad of soldiers who are ready to mob |
| We find one foreign tongue, we rip you apart |
| The ancient art of healing baby, give me your heart |
| Yes God, I’m doin' my job |
| I got a squad of soldiers who are ready to mob |
| We find one foreign tongue, we rip you apart |
| The ancient art of healing baby, give me your heart |