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• Artiste: Fred The Godson
• Titre: Elbow Grease
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These birds I'mma whip away like I'm working for chick fillet Hope I flip a brick today, fix it up like I'm AAA Get tired doing rims and them tires Day you retire start rocking different attire Not me, I got them buyers, no thanks, far from buyers No shame, I could divide it, tryna get Benjamin Franks I'm just tryna be frank like propriety What an old can do, a pea can, mixed up the prize My bride is the streets, I'm tryna get rich, I'm tryna to beat this out I'm a standup guy, the grams cut wide The fans upside down, the pans all dry Trap house in the back, in an hour flat I can fill the room This is poverty still, throw me a silver spoon 'cause I'm here stirring it up Give it that elbow grease I'm here stirring it up Give it that elbow grease Oh, see the whip is grinning Yeah, the windows tinted I got whatever they need Tell 'em please give a minute 'cause I'm here stirring it up Give it that elbow grease B12, that propane, cocaine's that code name Old brain and that old rain to blow cane through old veins I seen them This fiend was anemic but like my ball he used off For my dishes to clean it up Whip that all self nigga, diamonds, quarters, half hoes, fine grind Time is not for the scramblers, the D on that corner Your workers move like salmons, the guap being that linked on Drug spot with that mink, though They cop Os, they don't think, though I cop peas, I'm like'still over that sink, though I can fill a room, probably be poverty still Put me a silver spoon 'cause I'm here stirring it up Give it that elbow grease I'm here stirring it up Give it that elbow grease Oh, see the whip is grinning Yeah, the windows tinted I got whatever they need Tell 'em please give a minute 'cause I'm here stirring it up Give it that elbow grease Ok, it's Vito if you don't know Brooklyn hippie, peep this flow Smoking heavy, I'm hot as hell But my heart be freezing cold If frat don't work then trap gonna work That's work, work, honest, though I sent them young boys at your home They don't want your chain, they want your soul 'in my fruit punch, get the work on the block These niggas mad 'cause they out working, got a bunch and a Glock And where you're from is where you're at Fuck if you fight or if you stretch All of these niggas is whack, none of these niggas move packs Some might hate but anyone, 'boys with me, they never play Funny shit, we all got work but we ain't got no resumes Been putting on for so long, used to play the block at night Dreams of being rich, I woke up broke, I need my commas right Vito I'm here stirring it up Give it that elbow grease I'm here stirring it up Give it that elbow grease Oh, see the whip is grinning Yeah, the windows tinted I got whatever they need Tell 'em please give a minute 'cause I'm here stirring it up Give it that elbow grease