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Outkast - Dirt Work lyrics
[Slimm]
 I'm about two and a quarter from rocking the bird
 And about a G short from choppin' the third
 Now I'm sitting at the light with ten pounds of herb
 Uh oh, there they go, the Red Dogs swerve
 Jumped out, "Man, damn, they got nerve."
 Got the hell on, dropped everything including my word
 Now it's off through the woods we go, here we go
 Tossing the greens and blow, oh no!
 Dipping through the trails, running from twelve
 Everybody gotta lay low, shhhhhh!
 Escape routes major, elite street rollers
 Shit, we doper than cola, straight from Ayatollah
 A-Town heat strokers, flaming like the devils poker
 Two of the best wit it, hot shit, we'll roast ya
 If it's beef I'll choke ya and leave you for the vultures
 Or we can keep it cool playboy and I'll toast ya
 [Hook]
 Dirt work, nigga we don't play
 I got a couple on the tool and a few on the way
 (repeat)
 [Big Boi]
 Well it's the rippinest, wickedest MC, bustin hard up out the ginseng
 Tell more dope stories than a damn dope house dope fiend
 Fuck the police, you know me
 These hoes blow me slowly, seems like they owe me
 Show me the dope don't worry about the cash
 Or your girlfriend's gonna be lonely, homey
 These rich and these vegetables feeling bonyOutkast - Dirt Work - http://motolyrics.com/outkast/dirt-work-lyrics.html
 Don't make me open my book bag and you under scaling on me
 You understand me Tony, you look like you wanna go on a boat
 But you know I'll leave you bloating or floating
 Like sailboats and LTD's. Private, please
 I'm the nigga that earned his street stripes
 And they've seen me in the Source Magazine
 so you can't even pass me three mikes
 You get three strikes and about a half of clip of bullets, so run it
 And we can go on and get our little prices up
 And act like we was on that Teen Summit
(Hook)
 [Slimm]
 I'm about a four and a half into working these slabs
 And about a hundred away from back in the lab
 Now I done bust the next batch down and my face looking drab
 Uh oh, yep, this nigga done served me some bab
 Me sad? Naw, mad. Quick to bust your ass
 Playing around wit a hustler's cash, they'll find ya stankin in the trash
 And escape wit your Billy Jean and thriller, cause I'm bad
 Who dat, them niggas wit the juice pack, you thought you had
 Naw dad, I'm glad my niggas keep a few thangs, wit a few mags
 Down to toe tag, drop bags, switch tags, and haul ass
 Smash till we out of gas, blast only if we gotta blast
 Turn sunny days into an overcast
 Abusive to the under class, when my tongue lash
 And I mash out wit OutKast. Yeah...!
(Hook x3 to fade)








