Your native language

عربي

Arabic

عربي

简体中文

Chinese

简体中文

Nederlands

Dutch

Nederlands

Français

French

Français

Deutsch

German

Deutsch

Italiano

Italian

Italiano

日本語

Japanese

日本語

한국인

Korean

한국인

Polski

Polish

Polski

Português

Portuguese

Português

Română

Romanian

Română

Русский

Russian

Русский

Español

Spanish

Español

Türk

Turkish

Türk

Українська

Ukrainian

Українська
User Avatar

Sound


Interface


Difficulty level


Accent



interface language

en

Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
Cookie policy   |   Support   |   FAQ
1
register / login
Lyrkit

donate

5$

Lyrkit

donate

10$

Lyrkit

donate

20$

Lyrkit

And/Or support me in social. networks:


Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
Scarface

Do What I Do

 

Do What I Do

(album: Deeply Rooted - 2015)


[Verse 1 Scarface:]
I am ghetto, boy, chilling
Represent for the niggas in the hood and how they living
Heavy metal concealing
Hustling 'til you touch a 9 to 5 of drug dealing
It don't matter how I get it, I got it, fuck feelings
I don't have none, I'm 'bout my paper, nigga, ask 'em
Don't get confused on how the cash come
Never, by any means necessary better
Get up off your ass and get my money 'fore I stretch yah
Out in front your doorstep, when I brandish this .45th
You can make arrangements, you a dead man, a ghost
See I come from them cuts for real
Much long before this rap came, fuck the deal
I survived the game of life, nigga, fuck some skills
Crossing me, get in the way, this pussy must get killed
I'm alive, he came, he bust 'til he left
I would have made for sure I was dead and fuck yourself
Yeah, cause now I'm at his ass in a vengeance
Blood in, blood out from the beginning to the ending
Real shit being spit, know your limits
It's best you mind your mothafucking business
If you ain't in it

[Hook Z-Ro:]
So hard in these streets
Gotta pack a pistol plus talk to God in these streets
Go to church, Sunday, Monday, selling raw in these streets
Never took it home though, I left it all in these streets
Gotta do what I gotta do
I ain't promoting no eviction notice on the door
Fuck it, I had to go for broke
Do what I gotta do
Hustle 'til I see the dirt
Risking 25 years just to see another verse

[Verse 2 Rick Ross:]
I was all alone, car full of niggas
How'd I get here? Car full of hittas
I was rolling weed, they was snorting blow
Such a cool breeze, heart so cold
Step up to the plate, where your money at?
Bobby Brown on cake with a hundred packs
New editions, Lisa Lisa
We were secret lovers, had to get a beeper
My Atlantic star, not a Notre Dame
Not a student loan, tried to motivate
Continental, my Bentley, this shit should be illegal
Selassie eye in the ghost, thousand bales of that diesel
Lord, go toe to toe with any pussy boy
Fuck, one time for facing all the Boobie boys
26 inch plates on a 68
Where I'm from a half a key'll set a nigga straight
I just wanna make the car notes
Let mama make the pot roast
You should meet me at the car wash
Washing all 8, that's inshallah

[Hook Z-Ro:]
So hard in these streets
Gotta pack a pistol plus talk to God in these streets
Go to church, Sunday, Monday, selling raw in these streets
Never took it home though, I left it all in these streets
Gotta do what I gotta do
I ain't promoting no eviction notice on the door
Fuck it, I had to go for broke
Do what I gotta do
Hustle 'til I see the dirt
Risking 25 years just to see another verse

[Verse 3 Nas:]
Speaking for those squeaking in them cell blocks reading
To blacks, whites and Puerto Ricans
Brothers with those ankle bracelets, impatient for their releasing
To make it back to the block, the hatred, the priest hit
Time sure flies, look how many years went by
My young niggas already need hair dye
Alcoholic faces, women bad as a mug
Getting fat as fuck
Fried food be adding up, the system thrives off its victims
They ask how this economic collapse
Can affect people all over the map
Tea party for tax reenactment is whack
The past the past, yo, to my vatos out in the East Los
Nietas on the east coast, shouts to Puerto Rico
Dominican Republic people, rep I
Brown and black, we must get it together
The prison industrial complex a fucking set up
The Aztec, almac, African settled on this land from the get up
I changed my aim, who I'm gon' wet up
When violence is resorted, knowledge is distorted
Unless it's payback for brutality
I'm more or less with that, get back

[Hook Z-Ro:]
So hard in these streets
Gotta pack a pistol plus talk to God in these streets
Go to church, Sunday, Monday, selling raw in these streets
Never took it home though, I left it all in these streets
Gotta do what I gotta do
I ain't promoting no eviction notice on the door
Fuck it, I had to go for broke
Do what I gotta do
Hustle 'til I see the dirt
Risking 25 years just to see another verse

done

Did you add all the unfamiliar words from this song?