Dirt Work

[Verse 1: Slimm Calhoun]

I'm about two and a quarter from rocking the bird

And about a G short from choppin' the third

Now I'm sitting at the light with ten pounds of herb

Uh oh, there they go, the Red Dogs swerve

Jumped out, "Man, damn, they got nerve."

Got the hell on, dropped everything including my word

Now it's off through the woods we go, here we go

Tossing the greens and blow, oh no!

Dipping through the trails, running from twelve

Everybody gotta lay low, shhhhhh!

Escape routes major, elite street rollers

Shit, we doper than cola, straight from Ayatollah

A-Town heat strokers, flaming like the devils poker

Two of the best wit it, hot shit, we'll roast ya

If it's beef I'll choke ya and leave you for the vultures

Or we can keep it cool playboy and I'll toast ya

[Chorus]

Dirt work, nigga we don't play

I got a couple on the tool and a few on the way

[Verse 2: Big Boi]

Well it's the rippinest, wickedest MC, bustin hard up out the ginseng

Tell more dope stories than a damn dope house dope fiend

Fuck the police, you know me

These hoes blow me slowly, seems like they owe me

Show me the dope don't worry about the cash

Or your girlfriend's gonna be lonely, homey

These rich and these vegetables feeling bony

Don't make me open my book bag and you under scaling on me

You understand me Tony, you look like you wanna go on a boat

But you know I'll leave you bloating or floating

Like sailboats and LTD's. Private, please

I'm the nigga that earned his street stripes

And they've seen me in the Source Magazine

So you can't even pass me three mikes

You get three strikes and about a half of clip of bullets, so run it

And we can go on and get our little prices up

And act like we was on that Teen Summit

[Chorus]

Dirt work, nigga we don't play

I got a couple on the tool and a few on the way

[Verse 3: Slimm Calhoun]

I'm about a four and a half into working these slabs

And about a hundred away from back in the lab

Now I done bust the next batch down and my face looking drab

Uh oh, yep, this nigga done served me some bab

Me sad? Naw, mad. Quick to bust your ass

Playing around wit a hustler's cash, they'll find ya stankin in the trash

And escape wit your Billy Jean and thriller, cause I'm bad

Who dat, them niggas wit the juice pack, you thought you had

Naw dad, I'm glad my niggas keep a few thangs, wit a few mags

Down to toe tag, drop bags, switch tags, and haul ass

Smash till we out of gas, blast only if we gotta blast

Turn sunny days into an overcast

Abusive to the under class, when my tongue lash

And I mash out wit OutKast. Yeah...!

[Chorus]

Dirt work, nigga we don't play

I got a couple on the tool and a few on the way