Workin (feat. Travis Scott & Big Sean)

Don't bother me, I'm workin'

Don't bother me, I'm workin'
Don't bother me, I'm workin'
Don't bother me, I'm workin'
Don't, workin'

Can't you see I'm on the phone
Don't, don't be comin' over here with shit when I'm (workin')
Call me Mr Combs, and I'm 9 digit strong
Niggas hating on me but it's not (workin')
When I was 19, I walked in the house
And I told my momma she could stop (workin')
When you niggas used to beatbox on the block
Big and D-Rock, they was gettin' that (work in)
Then I linked up with some niggas from my hood
Who was know for puttin' that (work in)
And if your record ain't have it (like that, like that)
Nah, then your song, then your song wasn't (workin')
Ran into this young jawn, tell her come home
She asked for a check I said, "Bitch is you (workin')
Now everytime she call I don't even pick up
I just hit her with the text like

Don't bother me, I'm workin'
Don't bother me, I'm workin'
(Yeah put your hands together)
Don't bother me, I'm workin'
Don't bother me, I'm workin'
(Yeah, I ain't finished, I ain't finished)

Don't, workin'

I do this shit for B.I.G
So if you don't like me fuck you in the building, you (workin')
If you see us in the club with Cîroc by the tub
We ain't had fun, we (workin')
In the DJ booth like an independent group like
"Look, this a record we (workin')"
Play this shit a hundred times
If you don't we gon' be in here every single night that you (workin')
Shout out to my people with a job
I hope you don't fall asleep tomorrow when you (workin')
I was mackin' on this chick, my partner tapped me on the back
I turned around like "Nigga can't you see me, (workin')"
She a waitress or a stripper
If it's past midnight and she tell you she's (workin')

And we hustle before we can play
So even on Memorial Day, my nigga

Don't bother me, I'm workin'
Don't bother me, I'm workin'
Don't bother me, I'm workin'
Don't bother me, I'm workin'
Don't, don't bother me, I'm workin' (work)
Don't bother me, I'm workin' (work)

If you gon' get this money, you gon' have to get out and get it man. Ain't nobody gon' give it shit, feel me? God sent me here to inspire you, you understand? Ay I ain't about that motherfuckin' talk, I'm about that walk baby. I gets busy, we get this money over here



Credits
Writer(s): Cydel Young, Sean Michael Anderson, Jacques Webster, Deandre Robert Watson
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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