Steadily rewindin', trying to make some hot shit
I say, “Hate to cut you off but I gotta go
Talkin' 'bout that they used to get high to me in high school
And candy, Bentley, Fanny with no panties in Miami
Hell no, yeah, exactamundo
Another all-nighter, tryin' to get it done
'Cause if it ain't hot it don't mean shit
What I gotta get, twist another sweet and bob to the beat
Plastering the tracks together on tapes, CDs, wax or whatever
See we do it for that boy that graduated
As easy, guess it looks to you, I make it look so easy
Oh, what a job this is
They just don't know man, it's a hell of a job, man
Rollin' up another swisha, listenin' to the beat again
All the independents, a few major labels
With the music I'd be making big impression I'd be leaving
Oh, what a job this is
This music is something more different than the weed and the brew
And a lot of folks, they stop and stare thinking I'ma trickin' off
Drankin' but we concentratin', smoke another sweet again
And he's standing with his baby momma Kiki and she cryin'
We got a lot to deal with family members
We gotta always look out for baby momma nagging
You know I'm saying kids need this and then again
Steadily rewindin', trying to make some hot shit
Another all-nighter, tryin' to get it done
Hmm, that's 15 years in the game
So if I come to your job, take your corn on the cob
Baby, mother thinking that you on some other shit
Stop by and get you a beverage, I'm servin'
Devin is the dude you gon' probably hear him talkin' 'bout
Rollin' up another swisha, listenin' to the beat again
But it's all for the cause, yeah, so I'm
Drankin' yet I'm thinking of another rhyme
The public need that, we gotta make hot music
And that he wouldn't have made it if it wasn't for your CD number 9
Oh, what a job this is
I roll another bleezy, puff it, pass it and shake it off
'Cause I'm trying to do what I've loved, I love what I do
Niggas gather 'round their beat like a campfire
Barely make it home with the morning sun
And how he liked her finger, nail polish
Yeah, this life we live, what a job this is, real spit man
Another all-nighter, tryin' to get it done
Drankin' but we concentratin', smoke another sweet again
Push it, peddled it to the people, they can't ignore it, this is for
The next generation of rappers, big Snoop Dogg raising
Can't forget about the production cost and all the hidden fees
A lot of folks want to walk in these shoes but
Move on to the next phase and it's amazing
Baby, mother thinking that you on some other shit
Plug it in, let it play and let me blow your mind
I wish you could tell me mo' but I'm off to the studio, gotta write tonight”
Rollin' up another swisha, listenin' to the beat again
Drankin' but we concentratin', smoke another sweet again
But we just keep recording and it ain't to get no condo
Check this Devin, somebody said that real Gs to go heaven
But you know, it's all in a day's work
Then they told me 'bout their first date listenin' to my tunes
And that cute lil' chick named Tammy that you took to the Grammys
What's crack-a-lackin' Devin, the Dizzude?
Baby, mother thinking that you on some other shit
On the mixin' and mastering, puzzlin' and
Smokin', hoping that some bad news will come some other time
Still got the fortune and fame, yeah, I'm doing my thang
We work nights, we some vampires
What a job this is my nigga
Gonna continue to MC and smoke weed, you know I'm
Barely make it home with the morning sun
Snoop D-O dub, J Prince, Jazz Prince
“Hey, can you put us in your raps?” I don't see why not
I know you're saying, they won't know they won't miss it
Stay open like 7/11 as 24/7, when you need some hot shit
Oh, what a job this is
It's the dominant conglomerate, prominent and I'ma get
My rhymes like nickels and dimes
Oh, what a job this is
Steadily rewindin', trying to make some hot shit
So I'ma keep spittin' the truth on these fools like a reverend
Barely make it home with the morning sun
Oh, what a job this is
Baby, mother thinking that you on some other shit
And take a couple kernels off it, that would be alright with you
Besides, I ain't a thief, they won't pay me a visit
That's why we mashin', we ain't asking for nothing, we working for it
To be a rapper, MC, whatever you want to call it, man
That looked you in your eyes real tough and said 'preciate it
For another rhyme written, we spend time spittin' in the booth
And they used to make love to me in college
Barely make it home with the morning sun
Sometimes it's like a pigeon coop
Oh, what a job this is
Steadily rewindin', trying to make some hot shit
Singin' folk songs but not no kumbaya, my Lord
Another all-nighter, tryin' to get it done
This is for all the engineers who smoke weed
You download it for free, we get charged back for it
The big studios who still give niggas favors
Oh, what a job this is
