What a Job?

[Chorus] Rolling up another Swisha, listening to the beat again Dranking but we concentrating, smoke another Sweet again Steadily rewinding trying to make some hot shit Oh, what a job this is Another all nighter trying to get it done Barely make it home with the morning sun Baby mother thinking that you on some other shit Oh, what a job this is [Verse 1: Devin the Dude] Dranking yet I'm thinking of another rhyme Smoking, hoping that some bad news will come some other time 'Cause I'm trying to do what I love; I love what I do This music is something more different than the weed and the brew That's why we mashing we ain't asking for nothing we working for it Push it, peddle it to the people, they can't ignore it This is for all the independents, a few major labels The big studios who still give niggas favors On the mixing and mastering Puzzling and plastering the tracks together On tapes, CDs, wax or whatever This is for all the engineers who smoke weed Can't forget about the production costs and all the hidden fees For another rhyme written, we spend time spitting in the booth Sometimes it's like a pigeon coop But it's all for the cause So I'm gonna continue to MC and smoke weed You know I'm... [Chorus] Rolling up another Swisha, listening to the beat again Dranking but we concentrating, smoke another Sweet again Steadily rewinding trying to make some hot shit Oh, what a job this is Another all nighter trying to get it done Barely make it home with the morning sun Baby mother thinking that you on some other shit Oh, what a job this is [Verse 2: Snoop Dogg] As easy as it looks to you, I make it look so easy With the music I be making, the impression I be leaving A lot of folks they stop and stare, thinking I'ma trick it off I roll another bleezy, puff it, pass it and shake it off Move on to the next phase and it's amazing The next generation of rappers, big Snoop Dogg raising 'em That's fifteen years in the game Still got the fortune and fame, yeah I'm doing my thang Check this Devin, somebody said that real Gs to go heaven So I'mma keep spitting the truth on these fools like a reverend Stay open like 7-11, that's 24/7 When you need some hot shit, stop by and get you a beverage I'm serving, my rhymes like nickels and dimes Plug it in, let it play and let me blow your mind It's the dominant, conglomerate, prominent, and I'mma get What I gotta get, twist another Sweet and bob to the beat [Chorus] Rolling up another Swisha, listening to the beat again Dranking but we concentrating, smoke another Sweet again Steadily rewinding trying to make some hot shit Oh, what a job this is Another all nighter trying to get it done Barely make it home with the morning sun Baby mother thinking that you on some other shit Oh, what a job this is (Woo!) [Verse 3: André 3000] We work nights, we some vampires Niggas gather 'round the beat like a campfire Singing folk songs, but not no "Kumbaya my Lord" You download it for free, we get charged back for it I know you're saying, "they won't know, they won't miss it Besides, I ain't a thief, they won't pay me a visit" So if I come to your job, take your corn on the cob And take a couple kernels off it that would be alright with you (Hell no!) Yeah, exactamundo But we just keep recording and it ain't to get no condo And Candy Bentley fanny with no panties in Miami And that cute lil' chick named Tammy that you took to the Grammys See, we do it for that boy that graduated That looked you in your eyes real tough and say "'preciate it" And that he wouldn'ta made it if it wasn't for your CD number nine And he's standing with his baby momma Kiki and she crying Talkin' 'bout, that they used to get high to me in high school And they used to make love to me in college Then they told me 'bout they first date, listenin' to my tunes And how he liked her fingernail polish I say "Hate to cut you off but I gotta go I wish you could tell me mo', but I'm off to the studio Gotta write tonight" "Hey, can you put us in your raps?" "I don't see why not" Devin is the Dude, you gon' probably hear him talkin' 'bout– [Chorus] Rolling up another Swisha, listening to the beat again Dranking but we concentrating, smoke another Sweet again Steadily rewinding trying to make some hot shit Oh, what a job this is Another all nighter trying to get it done Barely make it home with the morning sun Baby mother thinking that you on some other shit Oh, what a job this is [Outro: Snoop Dogg] Yeah, this life we live, what a job this is—real spit, man A lot of folks wanna walk in these shoes But they just don't know, man, it's a hell of a job, man To be a rapper, MC, whatever you want to call it, man We got a lot to deal with Family members we gotta always look out for Baby momma nagging, you namsayin', kids need this And then again the public need that, we gotta make hot music 'Cause if it ain't hot, it don't mean shit But you know, it's all in a day's work What a job this is my nigga What's crack-a-lacking, Devin the Dizzude? Snoop D-O dub, J Prince, Jas Prince Yeah, Rap-A-Lot still on top, 2007 What a job this is