I slay, okay I see it, I want it I stunt, yellow bone it I dream it, I work hard I grind 'til I own it I twirl on them haters Albino alligators El Camino with the seat low Sippin' Cuervo with no chaser

Everything is nice Like the feeling's right, goin' on a high grade flight Thugs a proll out, girls a roll out Everything is nice, yeah Dis a fi di people dem a work hard All who gone to di morgue, R.I.P to a loved one I'm feeling high, champagne fly Work

I'm grindin' for all my shit Nigga I'm grindin' for all my shit Grindin' for all my shit Yeah, I'm grindin' for all my shit I put time into all this shit I'm fucking every night up in my new house Grindin', grindin' 'Cause bitch I worked too hard for

I've been down so long You know down don't bother me And cast 'em in the deep blue sea I work hard every day I come straight home at night I'm gonna cast all my worries And take 'em to the deep blue sea Gonna take all my troubles And no matter how hard I

I walked into your store Just to have a look around Asked if you could help me With the bargain I had found Tried to explain to you, darlin' That I was just a working man You came up with some term That I could not understand Oh, little lady

Oh, I wish, for once, we could stay gold What if our hard work ends in despair? What if the road won't take me there? What if to love and be loved's not enough? What if I fall and can't bear to get up? It shone like gold No gold can stay We could stay

She's the angel of small death and the codeine scene With her sweetened breath, and her tongue so mean With her straw-blonde hair, her arms hard and lean I watch the work of my kin bold and boyful Toying somewhere between love and abuse Calling to join

Gimme back my bullets Gimme back, gimme back my bullets Life is so strange when its changin', yes indeed Well I've seen the hard times and the pressure's been on me But I keep on workin' like the workin' man do And I've got my act together, gonna walk

Seven years of hard luck, comin' down on me From the Florida border, yeah up to Nashville, Tennessee I worked in every joint you can name, mister every honky tonk Along come Mr. Yankee Slicker, sayin' maybe you're what I want Want you to sign your

As far as I'm concerned So wipe that dirty smile off We won't be making up I've cried my heart out And now I've had enough of love Who wants to be right as rain 'Cause when hard work don't pay off And I'm tired there ain't no room in my bed It's better