Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song I Work, artist - La the Darkman. Date of issue: 20.08.2010
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
I Work |
| I’m the black Stephen King, I write my horrors through a pen |
| Every song from my album, tell how, what and when |
| I live like an orphan, cuz I didn’t have much |
| Kill a nigga, put some crack, in a pistol in my clutch |
| I’m still here today, it’s the American way |
| Ask Jed and George Bush, see what they say |
| How they took the presidency, the barrel of a gun |
| How we took Iraqi oil, with the same one |
| Analyze that, La the Darkman, play to win |
| Recently, I shot a nigga that I called a friend |
| Cuz he was foe, tried to steal some of my blow |
| Oh well, snakes in the grass, I chopped the head off they ass |
| Need an instant replay, I make it happen so fast |
| Til then, I’m getting all this money, fucking all these bunnies |
| Laugh a little bit, but ain’t a damn thing funny |
| You dig? |
| I got kids, and brothers to feed |
| Not to mention, my life, my bitches and what I need |
| Three story condos, carbon truck, combos |
| Bang hammers at niggas like Africans on congos |
| That’s how my song goes, drugs, money and murder |
| Check and see if you can handle it, 'fore you take it further, it’s La |
| I work, I’m real, I shoot, I kill |
| Pops left, moms had a habit, aunt raised me |
| Kicked me out of high school, teacher said I was crazy |
| Then I caught a CCW, didn’t amaze me |
| Then I caught a tenth and one, they tried to lay me |
| All through the trial, proves I’m natu-ral |
| Had lawyer money then, same as I do now |
| Youngster, it’s all about guns and butter |
| My first large sum of cash, I took care my mother |
| Bout her a crib, in the 'burbs, got her out of the gutter |
| Imagine my stress, cursed at birth, trynna get blessed |
| Slip infederal indictments, seems to be my hardest test |
| I’m the best, when it comes to flipping ten to twenty |
| Twenty to forty, forty to eighty, my shit is gravy |
| Double my condoms, keep my bitch from having babies |
| Ain’t that crazy, hell nah, I see the big picture |
| Baby momma child support, keep a nigga from getting richer |
| I’m slicker than the average, want something, I grab it |
| Get money like junkies smoking crack, it’s a habit |
| Move O’s through traffic, ball like Tim Duncan |
| Fundimental whips, no chrome, rims or nothing |
| Everything’s true, getting money up at the scoop |
| With bitches that party by sniffing a line or two |
| This ain’t rap, this what I do, like Japanese and kung fu |
| You understand, yeah? |