I Be Workin - Gucci Mane

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah\nHave ya workin' nigga\nHave that work\nHave ya workin' shawty\nYeah\nI be workin', be workin', be workin', be workin'\n24/7, I be workin', be workin'\nI be workin', be workin', be workin', be workin'\nSo, baby, hit me back, 'cause I’m workin', I’m workin'\nI be workin', be workin', be workin', be workin'\n24/7, I be workin', be workin'\nI be workin', be workin', be workin', be workin'\nSo, baby, hit me back, 'cause I’m workin', I’m workin'\nI been workin' like a dog, but I ain’t done yet\nWorked 24 hours, I ain’t broke no sweat\nCall me baker man, shawty, 'cause I cook the pies up\nAnd its skrrt, skrrt, skrrt, when I scrape the sides up\nSent off for a pack, 'bout three hundred tied up\nIf the state patrol pull him over, then its over\nGet a brick from Keyshon, sell it full to Dion\nHit apartments,, shawty all mad\nA lot of green in my car, with some money, green 6's\nWith some money green 1s, and a money green mink\nI’m the plug, like the shit you put in your light switch\nI got jungle fever, pimpin', man I love that white bitch\nWhere the rubber bands, nigga, at the fuckin' trap house\nAnd I’m still hood enough to slap my jacket black out\nI’m a real street nigga, pimp shit, trap shit\nTell these trap hatin' niggas they can suck my dick\nI be workin', be workin', be workin', be workin'\n24/7, I be workin', be workin'\nI be workin', be workin', be workin', be workin'\nSo, baby, hit me back, 'cause I’m workin', I’m workin'\nI be workin', be workin', be workin', be workin'\n24/7, I be workin', be workin'\nI be workin', be workin', be workin', be workin'\nSo, baby, hit me back, 'cause I’m workin', I’m workin'\nFifty bricks, no God damn pot\nI weigh the money on the scale if its right, stash that\nDifferent track, smash that, big check, cash that\n.357 Bulldog, I’ma blast that\nI’m a trapaholic, dawg, I’ma addicted to the trap\nAnd I’m on a trapathon, tryna make a million stacks\nI’m a real trap nigga, so I make trap songs\nFor the niggas in the trap to get their trap on\nI’m a real street nigga, so my sag low\n7: 30 on the dot, and my Jacob said so\nA bale for the Quincy Carter, sent 'em forty\nAnd my pocket jiggy, roll five thousand trip\nThirty thousand dollar pills, going for Isiah Thomas\nThirty-two thousand dollars, same number Magic Johnson\nAnd a pound of mid-grade and its going for the uno\nThat spinach in my pocket, like Popeye fightin' Pluto\nI be workin', be workin', be workin', be workin'\n24/7, I be workin', be workin'\nI be workin', be workin', be workin', be workin'\nSo, baby, hit me back, 'cause I’m workin', I’m workin'\nI be workin', be workin', be workin', be workin'\n24/7, I be workin', be workin'\nI be workin', be workin', be workin', be workin'\nSo, baby, hit me back, 'cause I’m workin', I’m workin'\nBitches call me Mr. Winters 'cause I serve a lot of birds\nNiggas call me Mickey D’s 'cause I have a billion served\nCaptain Winters numbers down, dawg, nine, ninety-nine, six\nWant ninety-nine bricks, I’m payin' all my hoes rent\nHaters mad at the kid, I’d be mad too\nI don’t walk through the club, baby girl, I swag through\nGot a hundred-thirty-thousand in this Louis bag, boo\nGot a Ray Charles recipe, I’ll make ya do, eat it too\nGot a new trap house in the God damn hood\nYeah, the heat fucked up, but the stove works good\nEast Atlanta, Zone 6, that’s my clique\nHood rich, so I put the Gucci print on my bricks\nI ain’t never had a job, I’m a God damn trapper\nTrash can full of nothin' but empty brick rappers\nIts a brick sendin' party, all the hustlers invited\nBut don’t take no flicks, or you’ll get indicted\nI be workin', be workin', be workin', be workin'\n24/7, I be workin', be workin'\nI be workin', be workin', be workin', be workin'\nSo, baby, hit me back, 'cause I’m workin', I’m workin'\nI be workin', be workin', be workin', be workin'\n24/7, I be workin', be workin'\nI be workin', be workin', be workin', be workin'\nSo, baby, hit me back, 'cause I’m workin', I’m workin'