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Rollin' up another swisha, listenin' to the beat againDrankin' but we concentratin', smoke another sweet againSteadily rewindin', trying to make some hot shitOh, what a job this isAnother all-nighter, tryin' to get it doneBarely make it home with the morning sunBaby, mother thinking that you on some other shitOh, what a job this isDrankin' yet I'm thinking of another rhymeSmokin', hoping that some bad news will come some other time'Cause I'm trying to do what I've loved, I love what I doThis music is something more different than the weed and the brewThat's why we mashin', we ain't asking for nothing, we working for itPush it, peddled it to the people, they can't ignore it, this is forAll the independents, a few major labelsThe big studios who still give niggas favorsOn the mixin' and mastering, puzzlin' andPlastering the tracks together on tapes, C-D's, wax or whateverLetras de cancionesThis is for all the engineers who smoke weedCan't forget about the production cost and all the hidden feesFor another rhyme written, we spend time spittin' in the boothSometimes it's like a pigeon coopBut it's all for the cause, yeah, so I'mGonna continue to MC and smoke weed, you know I'mRollin' up another swisha, listenin' to the beat againDrankin' but we concentratin', smoke another sweet againSteadily rewindin', trying to make some hot shitOh, what a job this isAnother all-nighter, tryin' to get it doneBarely make it home with the morning sunBaby, mother thinking that you on some other shitOh, what a job this isAs easy, guess it looks to you, I make it look so easyWith the music I'd be making big impression I'd be leavingAnd a lot of folks, they stop and stare thinking I'ma trickin' offI roll another bleezy, puff it, pass it and shake it offMove on to the next phase and it's amazingThe next generation of rappers, big Snoop Dogg raisingHmm, that's 15 years in the gameStill got the fortune and fame, yeah, I'm doing my thangCheck this Devin, somebody said that real Gs to go heavenSo I'ma keep spittin' the truth on these fools like a reverendStay open like 7/11 as 24/7, when you need some hot shitStop by and get you a beverage, I'm servin'My rhymes like nickels and dimesPlug it in, let it play and let me blow your mindIt's the dominant conglomerate, prominent and I'ma getWhat I gotta get, twist another sweet and bob to the beatRollin' up another swisha, listenin' to the beat againDrankin' but we concentratin', smoke another sweet againSteadily rewindin', trying to make some hot shitOh, what a job this isAnother all-nighter, tryin' to get it doneBarely make it home with the morning sunBaby, mother thinking that you on some other shitOh, what a job this isWe work nights, we some vampiresNiggas gather 'round their beat like a campfireSingin' folk songs but not no kumbaya, my LordYou download it for free, we get charged back for itI know you're saying, they won't know they won't miss itBesides, I ain't a thief, they won't pay me a visitSo if I come to your job, take your corn on the cobAnd take a couple kernels off it, that would be alright with youHell no, yeah, exactamundoBut we just keep recording and it ain't to get no condoAnd candy, Bentley, Fanny with no panties in MiamiAnd that cute lil' chick named Tammy that you took to the GrammysSee we do it for that boy that graduatedThat looked you in your eyes real tough and said 'preciate itAnd that he wouldn't have made it if it wasn't for your CD number 9And he's standing with his baby momma Kiki and she cryin'Talkin' 'bout that they used to get high to me in high schoolAnd they used to make love to me in collegeThen they told me 'bout their first date listenin' to my tunesAnd how he liked her finger, nail polishI say, ?Hate to cut you off but I gotta goI wish you could tell me mo' but I'm off to the studio, gotta write tonight??Hey, can you put us in your raps?? I don't see why notDevin is the dude you gon' probably hear him talkin' 'boutRollin' up another swisha, listenin' to the beat againDrankin' but we concentratin', smoke another sweet againSteadily rewindin', trying to make some hot shitOh, what a job this isAnother all-nighter, tryin' to get it doneBarely make it home with the morning sunBaby, mother thinking that you on some other shitOh, what a job this isYeah, this life we live, what a job this is, real spit manA lot of folks want to walk in these shoes butThey just don't know man, it's a hell of a job, manTo be a rapper, MC, whatever you want to call it, manWe got a lot to deal with family membersWe gotta always look out for baby momma naggingYou know I'm saying kids need this and then againThe public need that, we gotta make hot music'Cause if it ain't hot it don't mean shitBut you know, it's all in a day's workWhat a job this is my niggaWhat's crack-a-lackin' Devin, the Dizzude?Snoop D-O dub, J Prince, Jazz PrinceYeah, Rap-A-Lot still on top 2007
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"What a Job" as written by Calvin Broadus, Devin Copeland, Writers Unknown
Lyrics © EMI Music Publishing, Universal Music Publishing Group
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From Letras Mania