Oh Yeah (Work) (Sean P. Of YoungBloodZ and E-40) - Lil Scrappy, E-40, Sean P. of YoungBloodZ

I hear everyone of you

We do it like the army do

I can go vertical

Let’s go, hey, hold up (hold up)

No!!!

Blow!!!

Oh!!!

C’mon, crank it, c’mon!

Eh!

Oh!

Got Cartier frames coverin' up my eyes

26 inches inbetween my tires

Knot in my pocket better believe three grand

Diamonds on my neck and a pistol in my hand

I’m a get money nigga I grind like hell

When I show em the G’s I’m a crank up the scale

Oh yeah (Oh yeah) I’mma crank up the scale

Oh yeah (Oh yeah) I’mma crank up the scale

I ain’t never goin broke no mo'

As long as my folk keep runners of that blow

They sell it on out then thay bring they back mo'

And ere’body askin what I got that work fo' (got what?!)

Got diamonds in my shades the Cardier frames

They look up at my face and tell its woodgrain

And the Ho’s be amazed they be like OH!

They can see it from the bar see the way it glows

Yeah!

them things twinkle in the light bright

I don’t know I just twinkle in the lime light

Got a chevy same color as a can of sprite

Sippin on on that X O got me feelin right

I been livin my whole life pimpin

Never catch me slippin fuckin wit ya’ll women

Scrapp be chillin I stay on my grind

It’s a hard life we livin I stay wit my nine

Ain’t gotta hit these streets no mo'

Crisp 15 ten 24 show

Notice I ain’t never Fo' times e’ery week

20 time fo' every week get G’s

Party game shades with the gator cut wood

Prada footwear damn yall nigga do it

Pimpin in Atlanta now they callin me in Europe

Everyday I hustle diamonds up against the wood

Dope boy fresh dressed in red monkey clothes

Gotta stay fresh for you red moneky Ho’s

26 inches sittin tall like WHOA

I’m a need a camera man I’m a god Damn show

Shower cap and all bitch you already know

Fuck around with dopers squeeze the money out a Ho

I’m a get money nigga yeah I grind like hell

Rubberband around my money like a God damn playa

(slugged out grill) they say hustle that dat boy

(worth a few mill) he sittin at the bar

(tearin up hundred dollar bills) thats his car parked by the front Do

(on them big wheels) he ain’t never been a punk

Bugga suga plusha FUCK a state trooper

I’m livin for the moment I ain’t livin for the future

My dudes will bring it to ya bring the noise like a Tuba

Crack ya peanut shell run up on ya with the Ruger

Smoke herb like a hippie drink like a pirate

Wrist real crisp haters dont like it

Jack of all trades, gotta get my chips

Manipulate ya broad put ya chick on Craigslist

Traffic om in and out yall work when its a drought

Dont take the main street take the under route

Sucka use yo head you heard what I said

I’m gettin carpal tunnel while I’m countin all this bread