Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Not My Job (The Genie Of The Lamp), artist - Mac Dre. Album song The Best Of Mac Dre Volume Three, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 16.01.2006
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Sumo, Thizz Nation D50
Song language: English
Not My Job (The Genie Of The Lamp) |
Dre rock the jewelry with the clear stones |
And get on a nigga head like some earphones |
I finna spit it, with a clear tone |
Get yo attention, the biggest thang since the T.V. invention |
Dope as yola, I’m a big shot, a show off |
Plus I’m a big pimp, I get tow off |
Fuck a good job, she need a good jaw |
And sell BJ’s until her mouth get raw |
I’m from the California coast, beaches and riches |
Hit the cot, get ghost, no more sleepin’wit bitches |
I got a coughnut, sittin’on wires |
On Vogues bitch, not Michellin tires |
Can’t control my desires, I buy from Nordstroms not Fred Myers |
Do a lot of weed, love my supplier |
She keep it, fuck the blood out my supplier |
Man I’m bigger than life, I do it Magnum |
And bout these broke bitches, I’m through with havin’em' |
Dre bogard, he shove and he push |
And start war for nothin’G.W. |
Bush |
We be lovin’the cush, but only in the backwood |
It ain’t a backwood, it ain’t all that good |
I’m from the streets, where most need heat |
But I slice a nigga up like some roast beef meat |
I can bust you a rap, but anything else, not my job |
I peel ya cap back, but anything else, not my job |
I get ya for racks, but anything else, not my job |
I make you a slap, but anything else, not my job |
Bitch gone ask me to come with her to grocery shop |
I told her straight up like this, no siree bob! |
That’s not my job, I don’t do that |
I’m a pimp slash rapper, I thought you knew that |
And where yo dude, should I serve em’the news |
And let him know you finna be walkin’in some brand new shoes |
Ooh, you a fool, gotta watch thy self |
One false move, and you could stop thy self |
Sometimes I’m not myself, I’m another man |
I’m a rockstar, in another band |
Plus I’m the man with plan in his hands |
Soon we’ll all be playing in sand |
Cause to my estimations, and these calculations |
And all the money I made off the Rompalation |
I finna get as many didgets that’s on my license plate |
I shit on some of these midgets bitch I can’t wait |
When I dip, they trip off what Furl dressed in Plus I got a mouth full girl’s best friends |
I’m a back to the future new game kind of nigga |
Y’all lames is plain, drinkin’the same kind of liquor |
Wearin’the same kind of clothes, fuckin’the same kind of clothes |
And you bedrock pimpin', meanin’yo games kind of old |
You don’t want it with me, I’ll bother ya So get lost pal, before I clobber ya I got golden gloves, I give ya a new look |
With stiff left and a sharp right hook |
Niggaz know snitches, they ride and they go with them |
It’s all gravy, as long as they don’t tell on them |
Me and my team, see we a machine |
Fuck with my mans, and I’ma have to intervene |
I’ma sporco, and a sauncho |
Always lookin’out for Benny Blanco |