| Breaking rocks out here on a chain gang
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| Breaking rocks, serving my time
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| Breaking rocks out here on a chain gang
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| Working, but I still got so
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| Far to go
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| Aging at the edge of an ageless void
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| Too old to be young and too young to be old
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| Or young enough to be paranoid
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| I’m just flowing with the waves to stay afloat
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| Paddling on a board while praying for a boat
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| And some rope but I’ll settle for a mic cord
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| Center of the seesaw, mamma told me I was very wealthy
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| Depending on your definition of rich and the way you see poor
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| I’m a Father and still a Sun
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| On the middle of the road bopping like I got no place to go
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| And some place to come
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| Positive warns me of the deceptions of negative
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| Negative is trying to convince me to believe positive is a sedative
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| I pondered this and learned that they both are relative to life on Earth
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| And sometimes feels like a repetitive burn
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| Ashes to ashes held captive in the urn
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| The ink embroidered, black exploited, crackers bought it
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| Crack was boiling, niggas balling, clientele calling
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| My Excel fishtail like a dolphin, instead of talking
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| Money’s corporate, progress forward, bunnies is gorgeous
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| Picture me selling 20's on some '94 shit
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| Cutting dummies on porcelain, all my jewelry is frosted
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| Pigs is on corners more often, I’m feeling exhausted
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| I pray my sins don’t fall upon my offspring
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| Grown-man pants, wallets and ID’s
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| Health insurance policies, Wallabees and collard greens
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| Eating right, these the finer things in life
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| I see your ring in the light, everything that bling ain’t ice
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| Niggas think that they nice, scat-rapping in tights
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| That math isn’t right, this is rapper’s delight
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| Now I’m through packaging white, rap with the passion of Christ
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| Don’t get the facts half-right, yeah
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| Breaking rocks out here on a chain gang
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| Breaking rocks, serving my time
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| Breaking rocks out here on a chain gang
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| Working, but I still got so
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| Terribly far to go
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| Work my land, slash and burn
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| Elephant hands, every callus earned
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| With hoe and machete, wet earth turn
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| Deep in the dirt, king of the worm
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| Hyenas circle, cackle, blood curdle
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| Night dark as pitch
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| I’m up when the sky’s purple
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| Tapping ashes off clips
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| Left the shebeen with her and said, «do your dance quick»
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| Now c’mon baby, tell me what’s the word
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| Green thumb, no metal fingers but I’m still living off special herbs
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| Callaloo and cassava, big ganja
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| Aiming at Impalas
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| They came at dusk, wearing balaclavas
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| «You die today for the sins of your fathers»
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| Is it really stealing when you robbing from robbers?
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| Is it actually fake when you already posing as impostors?
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| Shoot the Boer, Kill the Farmer
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| Crack that Cape lobster
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| Boiling in Durban with poison, red dirt soiling
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| Black bodies toiling, mambas coiling
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| Overnight, that sweet milk spoiling |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Body of Work , by - Billy Woods. Song from the album History Will Absolve Me, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп