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It's Workin' Lyrics

from Poverty's Paradise

"It's Workin'" is track #6 on the album Poverty's Paradise. It was written by Gist, Keir/criss, Anthony/brown, Vincent Vinnie/broadus, Calvin Cordazor/young, Andre Romell/nichols, Billy/williams, Allen/hayes, Isaac.
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"It's Workin'" is track #6 on the album Poverty's Paradise. It was written by Gist, Keir/criss, Anthony/brown, Vincent Vinnie/broadus, Calvin Cordazor/young, Andre Romell/nichols, Billy/williams, Allen/hayes, Isaac.
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[Chorus]
It's workin', It's workin'
Party people if you're ready to rock let me hear you scream!

I play for keeps, sidewalks and streets, we reign and we pop, and daily
routine sweeps.
It's the fanatic, can't kick the habit, so there you have it, I'm a addict.
When I'm near the mike I gots to grab it.
Rip the system to shreds, grab the braids in my head.
Everybody get lifted, remember the rhyme said.
This is your introduction to the new episode.
With the Double I countin' down to explode.
Naughty kicked in the door, here come 235 more, livin' rotten to the core
everybody to the right, cause all I got left is my flow.
I'm floatin' with Boogie Beat fishin' in a record ocean.
Uh oh, I guess it's going' down, not now, right now.
So I got down with the git down for Illtown.
Figure it's the fine fanny,
I miss my mammy.
And you could ask my uncle Randy,
I'm grateful for my granny nanny that's my mother's mammy.
Two tittle brothers with different fathers but we're still family.
Forget how rough I had it, let's see how smooth it gets.
'cause I might wind
up doing that same old cruddy shit.
Like clockin', sellin' rocks in my neighborhood.
Back cockin', buckshottin', your ass is shot.

[Chorus]

Can you chill a can can you spill a can can you kill a can I know I can I
know I can I know I can can an American a Republican tucking with this
African can from this kian land I know I can It's a war wick wick wick
wack that's Dionne Dionne should have predicted her quick trip and Stayed
cool like fuckin' freon Or get frozen for eons and beyond bein' the
unbelievable bastard I be Well believe that shit's some be on Settle the
score check Melba needs Moore since now she poor looks to get richer by
puttin' rap up in the picture I'll fix ya backwards blindfold step
KLICKOW' Your ass like Calvin so butts get kicked now forgive the enemy be
a friend of me you teach but forgivin' ain't seem my music crushed in the
streets preach love practice hate break tapes and chatterin' Streaks on
your structure Stain your whole establishment let's get specific style
that's horrific twisted plus terrific with a tongue that's terroristic
we'll lift it then shift it brandish the biscuit finish you nitwit cancel
Christmas won't stop this slick shit

[Chorus]

time to do sit up I'm a loose nut watch crews get cut bring it to my
illtown grounds and lose your butts but whaqt is the matter matter
of fact I don't want to hear you talk so close your trap

Suckers get interslit like splinters for the winter see Dolores sucker
truck I should of told you Large Marge sent her two chocolates away from
being sloppy in bunches with no lunches step with the punches and try some
butt crunches get your hands clapping front and the back and keep a cool
head for all my swingers packing attackin' back in the motherfuckin' house
done traveled a milion miles and I'm still kickin' styles backsnack that
ass back now how's about that? you feel about as shitty as a baby's
unwiped ass crack I'll crack a bat dead on the back black and leave you
layin' there flat as a flapjack

We ain't friends to the end I blasted Chuckie after this instead of beef
you'll be givin me chicken at Kentucky lackin' lucky so worlds fear these
and there'll be no more you Ooh! ooh! like no world's series

Never a fad and madder than mad and radical rude rottin' razxkal kid man
what's happenin'? check the skills on the real it's best to chill don't be
caught in the down the hill ordeal it's ill

man this shit is deep huh! I'm goin' deep undercover like a motherfucker way
beneath the sheets full blows get thrown to the upper dome and continue
to go on until you're up and gone

When we spot a block knok no tellin' where the rest will go hustle with my
friends straight ballin' like testicles bowling for dollars rollin' for
hours rappers the pin strike is my friend they be took out in groups of ten

scoopin' change you'll be like "Who's that group again?" on the ground
with no sound with just boots and chins yeah and ya don't stop lust check
out us Illtown niggas rock

Songwriters
GIST, KEIR/CRISS, ANTHONY/BROWN, VINCENT VINNIE/BROADUS, CALVIN CORDAZOR/YOUNG, ANDRE ROMELL/NICHOLS, BILLY/WILLIAMS, ALLEN/HAYES, ISAAC

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Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.

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