Artist: Dave East Album: Hate Me Now (Mixtape) Song: Momma Working Typed by: AZ Lyrics Everything in the bag nigga, everything man Bag all this shit up My moms coming home at like 11 B, we gotta get the fuck up out of here We can't be here when moms come in the crib, my nigga. Word Yo, this shit depressing, 3 to 6 for Smith and Wesson On Ryker's Island Them hoes was telling get their best friends, they need protection I seen the D's, they played the roof out It's time to move out, the block hot, don't bring the Coop out I'm in the new shit, Balenciaga and a blue fit We throwing parties, these bitches swimming got the pool lit I bagged up eight balls over green, no need for pool sticks I'm sick of Chinese, close up shop, let's head to Ruth's Chris Connect Jamaican, I'm the reason for that last breath you taking And fuck this paper, we throw it like we just graduated Started in a Pathfinder, then I had to navigate it We ain't had much, my uncle said "Use your imagination" Took it and ran with it, pieces out the pot let the fan hit it Sit 'em on the plate and get the gram chipping I ain't feeling these niggas, it's like my hand's missing My man's switching but fuck it, I guess we ran different Hand to hand pitching, Deegan or we Van Wyck'in West side of FDR, never bag, I rarely borrow Thoughts of running up in houses like the mask of Zoro I had to go pick up some paper, I'll be back tomorrow Bagging up, knocking the purple tape Outside all night, my moms was working late I gotta go get it because it hurt to wake I don't talk about much, some shit it hurt to say Bagging up, knocking the purple tape Outside all night, my moms was working late I gotta go get it because it hurt to wake I don't talk about much, some shit it hurt to say I paid 50 for the smoke pack, 40 for that brown bitch I'm bout to make the town flip, I'm always where they smoke at Three dykes drinking in a school zone, a couple hammers Young dirty ghetto children, we ain't had no fuckin' manners I love my grandma, that's my mother twin Couldn't shit for days, eating that cheese from the government Talk clear round here papi, no time for stuttering Fiends like I just can not believe it's not buttering Stuttering, went back to basics Xannies had me trapped in the matrix When my mother told me you have to make it just for brother's sake If you sell crack, what you think he goin' sell If you go to jail, where you think he goin', focus up Still bagging burner tips, pull-up bar, work the dips I had to work the bench before I got my starting spot Straight out of Harlem like Suge Knight for that parking spot Knocking Biggie, wish I could talk to Pac, get off the block Bagging up, knocking the purple tape Outside all night, my moms was working late I gotta go get it because it hurt to wake I don't talk about much, some shit it hurt to say Bagging up, knocking the purple tape Outside all night, my moms was working late I gotta go get it because it hurt to wake I don't talk about much, some shit it hurt to say