The lyrics of YSB Tril’s song “Workin” depict his pursuit of wealth, fame, and luxury. He starts off by asserting that he is focused on his own goals and doesn’t care about what anyone else has to say about it. He compares himself to a shooting star, suggesting that he’s soaring above others and peo...
[Intro]
Yeah-yeah
Yeah-yeah
Yeah-yeah
(Smoove made it)
[Chorus]
'Bout mine, what a bitch gon' say?
No birthday, but she bring me that cake
Hella shows, nigga, sold-out dates
Wanna see mama flex in a brand new Wraith
I see lil' shawty be packin' it, tryna get back in it
Big brown bag be the Birkin
I try to lay off the hoes, they touchin' they toes
To tempt a nigga, it ain't workin'
Go 'round the globe, your main ho wanna meet
Drop a light bag on a Patek Phillipe
Get real rich, build a house on the beach
I can't pop no Xanny, gon' put me to sleep
Burberry headband and Gucci the collar
They can't even fuck with me, why even bother?
Knew I was a star back when I was a toddler
Dream that I want it then I'm finna cop it
[Verse 1]
One thing bout me, yeah
A nigga just tryna get rich
I be feelin' like a shooting star
They see me, they all gonna wish (Yeah)
Low-key, low-key
Ya bitch, she ain't really ya bitch
She done let the whole gang hit
I'll be adding that bitch to the list
[Pre-Chorus]
Hunnids on hunnids when it come to money
I never be having a sad day
Runnin', I'm runnin', the paper keep coming
I had to go get it the fast way
Woke up to a lil' bag today
Know my ex-bitch mad at me
Hoppin' jets, I'm in L.A
Won't trade this shit for anything
[Chorus]
'Bout mine, what a bitch gon' say?
No birthday, but she bring me that cake
Hella shows, nigga, sold-out dates
Wanna see mama flex in a brand new Wraith
I see lil' shawty be packin' it, tryna get back in it
Big brown bag be the Birkin
I try to lay off the hoes, they touchin' they toes
To tempt a nigga, it ain't workin'
Go 'round the globe, your main ho wanna meet
Drop a light bag on a Patek Phillipe
Get real rich, build a house on the beach
I can't pop no Xanny, gon' put me to sleep
Burberry headband and Gucci the collar
They can't even fuck with me, why even bother?
Knew I was a star back when I was a toddler
Dream that I want it then I'm finna cop it
[Verse 2]
Want me to put her in Rick Owens
I hit the bitch then she get goin'
Ice on my neck, now this bitch snowin'
Just getting started, gon' keep growin'
I gotta get it, keep running it up
All the hoes scream my name when I hop off the bus
Wink at ya ho and she startin' to blush
Looked at your bitch as she knew what it was
[Pre-Chorus]
Hunnids on hunnids when it come to money
I never be having a sad day
Runnin', I'm runnin', the paper keep coming
I had to go get it the fast way
Woke up to a lil' bag today
Know my ex-bitch mad at me
Hoppin' jets, I'm in L.A
Won't trade this shit for anything
[Chorus]
'Bout mine, what a bitch gon' say?
No birthday, but she bring me that cake
Hella shows, nigga, sold-out dates
Wanna see mama flex in a brand new Wraith
I see lil' shawty be packin' it, tryna get back in it
Big brown bag be the Birkin
I try to lay off the hoes, they touchin' they toes
To tempt a nigga, it ain't workin'
Go 'round the globe, your main ho wanna meet
Drop a light bag on a Patek Phillipe
Get real rich, build a house on the beach
I can't pop no Xanny, gon' put me to sleep
Burberry headband and Gucci the collar
They can't even fuck with me, why even bother?
Knew I was a star back when I was a toddler
Dream that I want it then I'm finna cop it
WORKIN was written by Smoove Beats & YSB Tril.
WORKIN was produced by Smoove Beats.