Chuck Paradi$e - Down 2 Business (feat. LivWork)

I be pitchin flippin' work no hand in hand
I don't sleep or nap, placing packs
Then run up the money, call it relay laps
No lookin back, cause that's how you trip and fall right off the track
Watch your back, cause these niggas snitchin' for a couple racks
Keep a Glock, shoot you from a block, I'm sendin' several shots
I was hot when I seen my opp, that's why I sent them shots
Only pushin' flock, diamonds dancin', call it milli rock
Keep a scope, just to peep a opp
Blow his brains to Kansas
Whole gang Darkwing Duck,
Yeah, nigga, we get dangerous, real connect
Told me he from Cuba, got me speakin' spanglish
Get that Courtney King, fix it up, now I'm doin' maintenance
Five escape routes, just in case the feds, think to chase us
Disappear, then come back like Ma$e
See the hood they praise us
Real G's, only multiply, hope that God still make us
Feds just hit another trap house, and it's still aint phase us
If my brothers say I shouldn't trust you, then your brain's a buss
I'ma let you have it any time, you think of playin' with us
If you cross me, then it's smoke and fire ain't no makin' up
Only hard times, a hard life, God wasnt blessin' us
Only Satan took the time out to invest in us
Money lust, keep on mixin' up, so the spoon won't rust
Wellbutrin cut, got they hands out, like they bout to to tut
Big lion, show my son the game, why he still a cub
Make that boy become a kingpin by the age of 21 (Ayo)
I just felt the vibration
Time to switch the location
My brody mixed the purp with the perc, he was supposed to go to probation
Said fuck that, went and rit up, then we took a mini-vacation
Ain't pack shit, but a black grip, got zips inside the PlayStation
I was networkin, met a new connect
Flew the pack down through Quebec
I was gettin' top, made her move her neck
Had a couple bitches runnin' through the set
Sold the P about 12.50, that's a quick chop like a jail visit
Big poppa left a shell in him
Bet he won't talk with a bell ringin
All the homies got the green light
We gon' make it Halloween night
Pole dark but the beam bright
I don't give a fuck about a clean fight
Jeans Amiri shirt Off White, these Jordan ones had a long night
Peer pressure golf from ItzOnSight just rolled a gotti straight dog bite
Niggas fuckin' with the wrong goon
Unlocked the door to the wrong room
50 round that's a strong boom
Fat lady sing a long tone
I ain't jackin' none the fraud clout, I'm still shinin' like a bald scalp
For I ball I call to clear the mall out
Im Bart Simpson wit the board out
Let's get down to business, weigh it move it then I flip it
Lurkin', servin' through the trenches, what the fuck is permission
Let's get down to business, weigh it move it then I flip it
Lurkin', servin' through the trenches, what the fuck is permission
Let's get down to business, weigh it move it then I flip it
Lurkin', servin' through the trenches, what the fuck is permission
Let's get down to business, weigh it move it then I flip it
Lurkin', servin' through the trenches, what the fuck is permission
I said

Written by:
Liv Work, T Benifield

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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