Guerilla Maab - Work Somethin lyrics

One time for your mind, now get this b**h crunk Let me see you throw the deuce for your hood, if you ain't no punk Who scared you scared, hell naw how we bucked We be bout it bout it and rowdy, and knocking in the trunk Creased up pieced up, sipping on a cup of drank While these b**hes popping they p**y, and t**ng blowing dank All my b**hes on the flo', watch a n***a body rock So thoed up in the game, and we leaving hoes in shock C-Walking cross the flo', and sliding down on you hoes (bia-bia), get your hands off of my diamonds and my gold Throwing bows on you hoes, the Maab enough to get it hype Steady body rocking and shocking, all through the f**ing night Let me see your tongue ring, b**h you know that's what I like Cause there ain't nothing, but nasty little thoughts up on my mind Wide up up in this b**h, and we fin to shut the do' Ain't nobody leaving up out of here, till I see you hoes [Hook x2] Work something, twerk something don't stop All my n***as throw the deuce up, if you representing your block Work something, twerk something don't stop All my b**hes on the floor, watch a n***a body rock [Swab] You've got to, work some-thing Third Coast, let's get it jumping It's time to, let our nuts hang So b**h get out the way If you ain't talking bout working something And t**ng something, yeeah Guerilla Maab will do you, run right through you Like I said, get out the way Cause all we wanna see you do is [Hook x2] [Trae] Picture me coming round the corner More fly, than boppers on choppers That's why these n***as, gon knock us But ain't no way they gon stop us Guerilla Maab we put it on you, from France to California We street made block roamers, with a gray on blue toner On slab or foreign cars, so n***as we don't barre And if they wanna plex, then we gon straight up bring a war We self made millionaires, so act like you know We slamming do's on 4's, when body rocking the road And I'm about to explode, when a n***a starts to get hyper Doing it everytime, walking on bops on jock and I'ma wear no get her shine A three-wheel swang abuser, and a three time straight bruiser Better believe I ain't no punk, you better move like Luda I'm a Guerilla fight thug type, when I'm sliding past hoes With a baddest b**h that's shaking her a**, and steady dropping it to the flo' Throwing bows on n***as, to keep this motherf**er crunk Like ten 18's in the trunk, swanging on screwed up funk