Lyrics Kevin Gates – Wrist To Work
Text:
Kevin Gates:
I Swear to God, I’m in the kitchen puttin’ my wrist to work (Weight)
I Swear to God, I’m in the kitchen puttin’ my wrist to work (Weight)
I Swear to God, I’m in the kitchen puttin’ my wrist to work (Weight)
Red bone in the back seat and I’m being chauffeured by a junkie
On the movie reel it’s «A Time to Kill» but I’m steady stroking her monkey
And I swear to God, I’ll kick her out the car if I smell my hand and it’s funky
My trap house sits on the street, you could come and see if it’s bumpin’
I can hit the mall for Adidas sneaks, take a bitch to eat and then dump her
Hit Wal-Mart, buy house slippers, come back — the bitch still jumpin’ (Boing)
I’m talking goin’ PoGo-hold on, I don’t do no Pogo
I’m too fresh to be jumpin’ up and down rockin’ all of this Polo
Women playing Marco Polo, I ain’t even work the mojo
Ask ’em why they goin’ loco, fine and sexy when I’m solo
I’mma
?
sell in Gardere, in the duplex to the right
She can whip around her neck, go get me some shit to light! (Gates!)
I Swear to God, I’m in the kitchen puttin’ my wrist to work (Weight)
I Swear to God, I’m in the kitchen puttin’ my wrist to work (Weight)
I Swear to God, I’m in the kitchen puttin’ my wrist to work (Weight)
You think I’m slippin’, try to rip me, bet my pistol work!
Percy Keith:
I don’t give a fuck and I think Nook would do the same
Clique house on flame, but it ain’t in my name
A couple grand that’s pocket change, I put that on your brain
My swag like cocaine, put that in your vein
Your girl on my dick, say she wanna be for me now
But I got a girl that I love, her name Nina
A bitch calls my phone, wake me up and fucks my dream up
Wait, it’s a sale, calling on my cell
My shit be blowing up
It be too hard to tell
And we be smoking purple
It ain’t too hard to smell
My dope be coming in bricks, it ain’t too hard to sell
Kevin Gates:
White tail, red nose, she a Reindeer (What that is?)
(Sniiiiiiiifffffff) Powder sniffer, still a reindeer
I Swear to God, I’m in the kitchen puttin’ my wrist to work (Weight)
I Swear to God, I’m in the kitchen puttin’ my wrist to work (Weight)
I just fell back in my section with a Mexican supply
Take a good look at this counter, all this white shit ’bout to fly
Fresh up out the pot with lock up, probably go before it dry
Niggas stoppin’ by to buy, got Port Allen on my line
In the middle of December block be clickin’ like July (Brrrracka)
They say my shit killin’ people and I’m helpin’ people die
Those who choose to use it, use it, I just happen to supply
Don’t encourage marijuana- I just happen to get high
My daddy Sam, very smart, he made me sharp before he died
«Stay away if they feet ugly, sucking, fucking entertainers»
Seeing nothing as in payment all she want was entertainment
Grind infinity will make the wrist whip a Mercedes
You already know
You ole bitch ass niggas need to hide y’all
?
My lil son fuckin’ these house outchea mane
My lil son go to school you know and, yeah
Michael Kors you know, everything Adidas, everything
My youngin’ retawdid’, he ain’t nothin’ but sixteen
Out his mind, out his mind, out his mind, out his mind
I’mma grind, I’mma grind, gettin money, I’mma grind
I just got the big face on my arm like my nigga Stroke
You can believe that
Mane I was bout’ to run out and ran that bitch
Big-face Roley on me
