What a Job lyrics

[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 sh*t
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 sh*t
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 n*ggas 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 sh*t
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 sh*t
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 sh*t, 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 sh*t
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 sh*t
Oh, what a job this is (Woo!)

[Verse 3: André 3000]
We work nights, we some vampires
n*ggas 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 sh*t
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 sh*t
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 sh*t
But you know, it's all in a day's work
What a job this is my n*gga
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