Fred The Godson Elbow Grease Lyrics

ft. Bam Vito

These birds I'mma whip away like I'm working for chick fillet
Hope I flip a brick today, fix it up like I'm AAA
Get tired doing rims and them tires
Day you retire start rocking different attire
Not me, I got them buyers, no thanks, far from buyers
No shame, I could divide it, tryna get Benjamin Franks
I'm just tryna be frank like propriety
What an old can do, a pea can, mixed up the prize
My bride is the streets, I'm tryna get rich, I'm tryna to beat this out
I'm a standup guy, the grams cut wide
The fans upside down, the pans all dry
Trap house in the back, in an hour flat I can fill the room
This is poverty still, throw me a silver spoon 'cause

I'm here stirring it up
Give it that elbow grease
I'm here stirring it up
Give it that elbow grease
Oh, see the whip is grinning
Yeah, the windows tinted
I got whatever they need
Tell 'em please give a minute 'cause
I'm here stirring it up
Give it that elbow grease

B12, that propane, cocaine's that code name
Old brain and that old rain to blow cane through old veins
I seen them
This fiend was anemic but like my ball he used off
For my dishes to clean it up
Whip that all self nigga, diamonds, quarters, half hoes, fine grind
Time is not for the scramblers, the D on that corner
Your workers move like salmons, the guap being that linked on
Drug spot with that mink, though
They cop Os, they don't think, though
I cop peas, I'm like'still over that sink, though
I can fill a room, probably be poverty still
Put me a silver spoon 'cause

I'm here stirring it up
Give it that elbow grease
I'm here stirring it up
Give it that elbow grease
Oh, see the whip is grinning
Yeah, the windows tinted
I got whatever they need
Tell 'em please give a minute 'cause
I'm here stirring it up
Give it that elbow grease

Ok, it's Vito if you don't know
Brooklyn hippie, peep this flow
Smoking heavy, I'm hot as hell
But my heart be freezing cold
If frat don't work then trap gonna work
That's work, work, honest, though
I sent them young boys at your home
They don't want your chain, they want your soul
'in my fruit punch, get the work on the block
These niggas mad 'cause they out working, got a bunch and a Glock
And where you're from is where you're at
Fuck if you fight or if you stretch
All of these niggas is whack, none of these niggas move packs
Some might hate but anyone, 'boys with me, they never play
Funny shit, we all got work but we ain't got no resumes
Been putting on for so long, used to play the block at night
Dreams of being rich, I woke up broke, I need my commas right
Vito

I'm here stirring it up
Give it that elbow grease
I'm here stirring it up
Give it that elbow grease
Oh, see the whip is grinning
Yeah, the windows tinted
I got whatever they need
Tell 'em please give a minute 'cause
I'm here stirring it up
Give it that elbow grease