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Get a Job

Body Count

This stress is killing me
The pressure is agony
Those people work till they break
While others just take

Stop begging, get a job
Get a gun, motherfucker, go on and rob
I'm up at 5 am, did my work and
You sleep all day wondering why you're broke
Then you get on the phone and sweat your friends
Sad stories, sad stories never end
You claim you're fly but always meek
You're always broke but you're lying for weeks

I got problems, too
I keep seeing you
I got a problem, too
I keep helping you

I got problems, too
I keep seeing you
I got a problem, too
I keep helping you

Get a job, motherfucker
Learn to rob, motherfucker
Get a job, motherfucker
Learn to rob, motherfucker

Do you carry a gun? You sit still
You never pay me back and never will
And we can man it out, you breaking my balls
Till I give the fuck up and block your call
I'm the bad guy with a bank account
You just move to your next friend and burn him out
Everyone knows this guy, this shit's true
Or maybe this song's about you

I got problems, too
I keep seeing you
I got a problem, too
I keep helping you

I got problems, too
I keep seeing you
I got a problem, too
I keep helping you

Get a job, motherfucker
Learn to rob, motherfucker
Get a job, motherfucker
Learn to rob, motherfucker

Get a job!

Composição: Ernest T Cunningan,tracy Lauren Marrow,vince Dennis





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