Maxo Kream – Work Lyrics

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[Intro] Your name is Emekwanem [?] Ogugua Biosah
Emekwanem means don’t fuck with me
And the word don’t fuck with me means don’t mess with me
[?] do not ever think of making me mad
Because if I get mad…
Do not ever carry on with my boy
CARRY ON

[Verse 1] Used to stash the package in the mattress or the sofa
Mama kept complaining bout the marijuana odour
Had a brick of molly when the lawman pulled me over
I was putting keys in the motor like Toyota
Used the Karo paints, I fucked a lot of niggas over
So I bought a pipe and kept the toaster with the holster
Used to ask my brother why he cook with baking soda
Told me I won’t understand this life until I’m older

[Hook] Work that work
Had to work my work
Work the work
Working with the work
Work that work
Working with my work
Work the work
Working with the work
Work that work
Had to work my work
Work the work
Working with the work
Work that work
Working with my work
Work the work
Working with the work

[Verse 2] Grannie always bitchin bout me saggin at my britches
So I gotta whip and with extension cord and stitches
Mama used to tell me stay my ass up out the trenches
But I never listened, hit the trenches, started Crippin’
Posted on the block, Glock tucked with the hoovers
I was selling rocks to 2 a cluck like a rooster
Maths teacher ask me Maxo why I’m always skippin
I was trappin fractions afterschool like detention
Broke as hell we had to manage
Chicken noodle, syrup sandwich
[?] Had no beds, we slept on pallets
Daddy was a swiper and my mama was a booster
Cause [?] was a killer, all my uncles they some losers
My brother [?] was janky, robbin niggas andale
Till I went inside his room and stole his AK
Stupid ass decision, I regret it everyday
A nigga caught him slippin, shot him right inside his face

CARRYUP

{Beat switch}

[Hook 2] Went from whippin’s with a belt
To whippin’ like a chef
Cookin’ with my left
Co-cain, and meth
Pops locked in jail
Glock on my shelf
Murder block be my set
Slangin’ pot, percocet

[Verse 3] When I was twelve I went from Chuck-E-Cheese to selling work to fiends
Now I’m grown as hell, the trap the only thing that work for me
[?] In a 4 door, Buick [?] that we stole from [?] Stupid shit I used to do
Trap for tennis shoes
My bars like inner tube
I’m crash like bandicoot
See the streets is all I knew
Pimps and prostitutes
I never owned a suit
I was known to shoot
Now I want that Bentley Coupe
Shootin’ stars inside my roof
Where I’m from if you a star you handle rocks or shooting hoops
My dad was locked up doing time for crackhead caught for revenue
Twice a week he call my line, the preacher tell me what to do
Told me follow mama rules
Read my book, go to school
But instead I bought a tool
Hit the trap with Janky Ju
Shake, residue
Fast money goo
But I needed something new
Hit the studio and worked the booth
So I

[Outro] Put in work
Had to put in work
Work my work
Working with the work
Put in work
Had to put in.. yuh
Put in work, work, work
Work with the work
Had to [?] my work
Work with the work
Had to work my work
Put in work work work
Put in work work

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