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lirik lagu let it all wrk freestyle – mukazi

[intro: mukazi]
i’m in this b*tch
with yo b*tch and another b*tch
that’s 2 b*tches with a timepiece on my wrist
huh so you what time it is right?
hum what time is it? is it 3 sum ding! ding! ding!

[verse 1: mukazi]
yea kazi with that
you started spitting hot 16’s at 16 with yo big gap
they think they on your level but all caps aside
like the london look there’s a big gap
cuz you be spittin that hot sh*t with no tic tac
use to ride with ju to the stu in a cadilac
that’s yo slime y’all go way back like a cadilac wit 4 flats that he lost his in a accident bumping to your track
you trailblazing through the booth making all these tracks
pull a p*ssy n*gga card just to get respect
f*cked yellow bone beautician pulled out her tracks made her hunch back
money hungry get the bread then throw it in yo lunch bag
you got fouled by the bank that’s a hip check
they say put yo money where your lips at
you say keep that money where yo wrist at
cuz time is money understand thats a gift you have
honor the gift keep it rocking like russell west
can’t stomach all that sh*t through a dad bod
let it all work out till it’s a 6 pack
let that sh*t wrk out3x
[verse 2: mukazi]
let it work out !
they in yo business gossiping that’s word to mouth
and if i hit a p*ssy n*gga he gone scream ouch!
off the heazy i be going with no pencil pouch
went to sleep but my coins sleepin in the clutch
woke up 4 in the morning feeling all grouchy
caller id say the call from a different country
tell em i just want the bread bread like a pantry
i keep this sh*t 100 like the first century
i’ma young n*gga, wit a old mind
i’m from drc, a place that’s a goldmine
we on top of the world but we still behind
to much potential not enough credential
we need better leaders yea that sh*t essential
i’ma fight till it’s over
put my fam on my shoulder
i keep one in a chamber 100 that’s a chamberlain
stump you out in these timberlands
i’m my brothers keeper
yea it’s going down but i’m not yelling timber

let that sh*t work out 3x

[verse 3: mukazi]
let the beat build
im tryna build a empire
no taraji p, but a b*tch named destiny told me im her destiny
she lying in my bed, but all honesty
lines go over yo head i’m your d*mn barber
like 5 0 i f*cked yo b*tch undercover
i know the game, slime like wack 100
real gs move in silence and i got the proof
my dog rolling in a coupe and it ain’t got no roof
my dog keep a gun that’s a armed pit it’s a must
my circle so small ain’t no such thing as trust
ain’t no such thing as us
wilt chamberlain in my pockets that’s a 100 bucks
race me to that dirty money i’ll leave you in a dust
i’m looking for a leprechaun
i’m running out of luck
i need the midas touch
i needa bad b*tch who dont give a f*ck
who don’t know such and such
yea on my to success with no elevators
like all eyes on me i’ma take the stairs (stares)
even when i’m out of shape i still keep it square
im the realest in the circle
im the center of the power in my inner circle
i’m the centerpiece with a mastermind
need a masterplan to make a masterpiece
need a bag of money
i’m boolin wit my bs, flirting with some honeys
i don’t want my x (axe ) i ain’t paul bunyan
told the center in the paint that ima dunk on em
tear dropped em instead but i ain’t throwing onions 2x
and it all worked out

- mukazi

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