[Intro: Fred The Godson]
Gordo
Frederico
Even if i'm young
My momz used to tell me
You gotta use that elow grease baby
[Verse 1: Fred The Godson]
These birds I'mma whip away like I'm working for Chick-Fil-A
Hope I flip a brick today, fix it up like I'm AAA
Get tired doing rims and them tires
Then 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 being Frank like Papayas
What an O can't do, a P can, mix up the prize
My pride is the streets, I'm tryna get rich and prior the beats
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
[Hook: Fred The Godson]
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
[Verse 2: Fred The Godson]
B12, that propane, c**aine's that code name
Old brain and that old rain to blow cane through them cold veins
I seen them
This fiend was anemic but like my ball he used d**[?]
For my dishes to clean it up
Whip that hard, soft, nicks, dimez, quarters, half, wholes, 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 O's, they don't think though
I cop P's, I'm like Kinko's
Still over that sink though
I can fill the room's probably be poverty still
I am your silver spoon cause
[Hook: Fred The Godson]
[Verse 3: Bam Vito]
Ok, it's Vito wow well if ain't know
Brooklyn hippie, peep this flow
Smoking in heaven but am hot as hell
But my heart be freezing cold
If rap don't work & trap dont work
That's work, work on the stove
I send them young boys at your home
They don't want your chain, they want your soul
Codeine all in my fruit punch, get the work on the block
These n***as mad cause they at work gotta punch in a clock
And where you're from is where you're at
f** if you fighting as if you scratch[?] (scratch)
All of these n***as jus rap (rap), none of these n***as move packs
Some I hate but I anyway, Shine boyz wit me, they never play
Funny sh**, 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
[Hook: Fred The Godson]