Lyrics I Got Work - OJ da Juiceman

I Got Work
OJ Da Juiceman
In the kitchen once again
I done gave the dope (?)
Quarter brick, half a brick, tell me what you wanna spend
Half a pound, whole pound, even plugged down with the mid
Thousand pills and thousand (?)
Fuck you niggas, come again
I got work (work, work, work, work)
I got work (work, work, work, work)
I got work (work, work, work, work)
I got work (work, work, work, work)
I got work
(?) baby crazy
In this kitchen with Patrick Swayze
And the yay is dirty dancing and it's white like (?)
I just bought a mansion way before the rap advances
Michael Jackson with the work cuz i made the J's start dancing
All this guacamole, got my pants on MC Hammer
Smoking on that gas like a nigga got cancer
They say bands a make her dance, so i turned her to a dancer
(?) with the (?), got me riding on Prances
(?) under gas (?)
Quarter brick, half a brick, whole brick, a couple schedules
Prada head to toe, so i'm dancing with the devil
(?) with the swag, something like a space shadow
Rock band drums, so i'm blasting heavy metal
32 Ent, we got keys just like Rihanna
All my young nig' with me, using sticks and bandannas
All my young nig' around me, using sticks and bandannas
(?) shoe walking, put a hole in your head like a dolphin, nigga
J wanna hit (?), nigga
No (?) i got salts, young nigga
Gucci Mane, Lo with an (?)
Jewelry look like a cold icicle
Came a long way from (?)
With Pollo and then with Hillfiger
Finger fuck the money with the trigger finger
You know i keep white like that nigga (?)
Made the birds sing like a R&B singer
Posted in the trap with a brand new fish car
Brand new paint looking like wet pussy
(?) with the bomb and them bushes
Call me (?), gotta keep them cookies
(?) bright to all gold Rollie
Sixteen gold, twenty two carat trophy
2014, got a (?) on Forgis
All this trap money (?)
Pounds of the white, you can call a nigga Tony
Trap with the testament, judgement Rollie
Turn up, turn up, them i done roll it
If it ain't gas, you know i don't smoke it
If it ain't a thirty, you know i ain't toting it
Thirty one shots so you know my clip loaded
(?) slam niggas like a fur named Coby
Shouts out to my fur dawg named Chloe
(?) dollar named baby girl Courtney
Pockets on green, so i'm walking with a Brightling
You know i keep a Glock like my nigga Charlie (?)
(?) shoulder sloppy
Peacot sweat, (?)