Gimme That Work
Gimme That Work

Baka Not Nice - Gimme That Work Lyrics

8
Gimme That Work Music Video

Gimme That Work Lyrics

Got that tip from my homies and you got them pies
All my niggas Gucci, so they down to ride
Left my mask at home, we don't do disguise
Got a four fif' on my side in case they wanna try
Pull up, skrt (woah)
Grippin' the stick when I turn (yeah)
Smokin', I'm calmin' my nerves
Kickin' the door and I'm goin' in first
Family see me, they goin' berserk
Like give me the bag and nobody get hurt

Gimme that work, hey (woo)
Gi-gi-gimme that work
Gimme that work, nuh
'Bout to gimme that work, hey (woo)
Gi-gi-gimme that work, nuh
'Bout to gimme that work, hey
Gimme that work

Trust now, you know I'm up now
She see me with a bag, she wanna fuck now
They see me with a Aud', they wanna know how
Rollin' off a addy, I can't slow down (uh, uh, uh, woo)

I robbed your bitch for the night, I might just give her the pipe
I might just—
I might just dip in it twice, I might just speak of a spice (yeah, yeah)
She did it back to the kitchen
Whippin' and cheffin' that white (whip it, whip)
Told her to pass me the scale, answer the phone

And gimme that work, hey (woo)
Gi-gi-gimme that work
Gimme that work, nuh
'Bout to gimme that work, hey (woo)
Gi-gi-gimme that work, nuh
'Bout to gimme that work, hey

Gimme that work, hey (woo, woo)
Gi-gi-gimme that work
Gimme that work, nuh
'Bout to gimme that work, hey (woo)
Gi-gi-gimme that work, nuh
Fuck with my money, somebody get murked
Gimme that work

Said, said, hey
Yeah
Yeah, yeah, hey
Said, said, hey
Hey

Gimme that work, hey (woo)
Gi-gi-gimme that work
Gimme that work, nuh
'Bout to gimme that work, hey (woo)
Gi-gi-gimme that work, nuh
'Bout to gimme that work, hey

Gimme that work, hey
Gimme that work
Gimme that work, nuh
'Bout to gimme that work, hey
Gi-gi-gimme that work, nuh
'Bout to gimme that work
Gimme that work

Trust now, you know I'm up now
She see me with a bag, she wanna fuck now
They see me with a Aud', they wanna know how
Rollin' off a addy, I can't slow down

I'm 'bout the fuckin' bags, my nigga
The two bits that made it true, my nigga
Now I'm flyin' private jets with the crew, my nigga
Where the fuck where you
When the judge gave me 13 years, 9 months?
Where the fuck were you?
When my pops was in the court room in shock
Where were you when I was down below?
Yo, I got convicted of somethin' I ain't even fuckin' do, my nigga
Fuck, man
We don't do the long talkin', ayy?
We just get straight to the barkin'
It's a OVO ting

Writer(s): Matthew D. McQueen, Shane Lindstrom, Travis Savoury
Copyright(s): Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind

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