Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Puttin' in Work, artist - Bloods & Crips. Album song Bangin on Wax, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 14.02.1993
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Dangerous
Song language: English
Puttin' in Work |
I’m loadin' my nine, pop in the clip with teflon clips so |
When I pull the trigger, it’s penetratin' shit |
I grab the gat and pull the trigger of the nine |
Shoot you in the head, it’s gonna blow your fuckin' mind (Mind blowin'!) |
I’m peelin' caps like monkey peels banana |
A killa for hire, just like Santana, or Spencer |
Slobs be flamin' but my nines are quicker |
I’m crippin' for life so slobs I’m gonna get ya, huh |
I’m bendin' corners, rollin' routes in this cut |
Drinkin' erk and jerk, smokin' on a blunt |
Turn it down, «Crippin' Ain’t Easy» on the stereo |
Lights low, here I go, slobs yellin' «hit the flo'!» |
But it’s too late 'cause I’m smokin' on some shit |
Pumpin' the trigger quick, and pop in another clip |
Pumpin' the trigger quick, and pop in another clip |
Slam the gas, the truck is bendin' corners again |
Turn up the sound, feelin' amped from the kill against the? |
Pockets? |
as I flee from the scene |
Up into my ride and go to Martin Luther King |
To my nigga Sin, for him I’m all in |
I’m deliverin' the real in every form and characteristic |
Layin' slobs in their muthafuckin' caskets |
Puttin' in work, 'cause my mind’s gone |
Loadin' up the chrome, to blow off a slob’s dome |
And watch him bleed 'cause I care less |
I don’t give a fuck, I put two more in his chest |
So beware of the nigga named Blue Rag |
A crazy ass crip with a .44 mag |
So watch out 'cause I’ma get you too |
«Another Slob Bites the Dust» fool |
Put my pen to the paper, I’m on a crip caper |
To kill me a slob, mentally on paper |
But if you wanna go further than that, I’ll get physical |
And peel your muthafuckin' cap back |
I keeps a .44 on my side bro |
Just to let you know, for your motherfuckin' info |
Trick ass nigga, remove the dread |
You’ll live a lot longer, and won’t end up dead |
'Cause I’m a trigger happy crip, straight slob killin' expert |
Puttin' in much work |
My nigga Sin got shot so I jumped in my 'fo |
Swoop around the corner then I’m aimin' for the window |
I saw a shadow, the rival, no, the wrong one |
It doesn’t matter so I just peeled ?? |
one |
I heard a scream and slob’s momma start runnin' out |
I’m vibratin' 'cause my bullets keep comin' out |
Puttin' in work a nigga saved by George |
While I’m trippin', sendin' slobs to the mourge |
Elm Street just got picked off |
Due to the fact the K-gang got ticked off |
I saw the slob I was out to get |
So I pause for a minute to reload the clip |
I pumped a few right dead in his ass |
But then I ducked down and told Crip Inch to hit the gas |
Back to the hood, that’s where I hide out |
'Cause I’m the reason all them snoops just died out |
You never know what a nigga is runnin' for |
Let’s know what a nigga is gunnin' for |
Find a slob and he is deleted (Delete his ass) |
I put in work so my day is complete |
Another night on a mission |
Double the barrell, double the I, double the bucks that I’m fishin' |
I see a nigga from the other side (Kill his ass) |
Load up my gun, and aim for his fuckin' eye |
And when I’m done I’m drinkin' on some liquor |
Fast forward the tape, slobs only get killed quicker |
Blue ?? |
Blue Rag straight C’in |
To kill me a slob this motherfuckin' weekend (Say what?) |
'Cause I’m a crip, a crip for life G |
Pleadin' guilty to charges of insanity |
I’m goin' crazy every minute of a hour |
Crip to the heart but it’s still black power |
Fuck the S to the L to the O-B |
Stay down for Crip, cuz, creep with me |
Now I’ma stay down, and down for the mission |
Let me get my gat and load the clip so I can dish it |
I G’d a ride, a gray six-trey |
So I can get the AK and go and play, huh |
A ride down White damn sure won’t hurt |
I got a urge to jerk and straight put in work |