text: Rolling up another Swisha, listening to the beat again
  Dranking but we concentrating, smoke another Sweet again
  Steadily rewinding trying to make some hot shit
  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 shit
  Oh, what a job this is
  Dranking yet Im thinking of another rhyme
  Smoking, hoping that some bad news will come some other time
  Cause Im trying to do what I love; I love what I do
  This music is something more different than the weed and the brew
  Thats why we mashing we aint asking for nothing we working for it
  Push it, peddle it to the people, they cant ignore it
  This is for all the independents, a few major labels
  The big studios who still give niggas 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
  Cant forget about the production costs and all the hidden fees
  For another rhyme written, we spend time spitting in the booth
  Sometimes its like a pigeon coop
  But its all for the cause
  So Im gonna continue to MC and smoke weed
  You know Im...
  Rolling up another Swisha, listening to the beat again
  Dranking but we concentrating, smoke another Sweet again
  Steadily rewinding trying to make some hot shit
  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 shit
  Oh, what a job this is
  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 Ima trick it off
  I roll another bleezy, puff it, pass it and shake it off
  Move on to the next phase and its amazing
  The next generation of rappers, big Snoop Dogg raising em
  Thats fifteen years in the game
  Still got the fortune and fame, yeah Im doing my thang
  Check this Devin, somebody said that real Gs to go heaven
  So Imma keep spitting the truth on these fools like a reverend
  Stay open like 7-11, thats 24/7
  When you need some hot shit, stop by and get you a beverage
  Im serving, my rhymes like nickels and dimes
  Plug it in, let it play and let me blow your mind
  Its the dominant, conglomerate, prominent, and Imma get
  What I gotta get, twist another Sweet and bob to the beat
  Rolling up another Swisha, listening to the beat again
  Dranking but we concentrating, smoke another Sweet again
  Steadily rewinding trying to make some hot shit
  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 shit
  Oh, what a job this is 
  We work nights, we some vampires
  Niggas 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 youre saying, they wont know, they wont miss it
  Besides, I aint a thief, they wont 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
   Yeah, exactamundo
  But we just keep recording and it aint 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 wouldnta made it if it wasnt for your CD number nine
  And hes 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 Im off to the studio
  Gotta write tonight
  Hey, can you put us in your raps? I dont see why not
  Devin is the Dude, you gon probably hear him talkin bout–
  Rolling up another Swisha, listening to the beat again
  Dranking but we concentrating, smoke another Sweet again
  Steadily rewinding trying to make some hot shit
  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 shit
  Oh, what a job this is
  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 dont know, man, its 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 aint hot, it dont mean shit
  But you know, its all in a days work
  What a job this is my nigga
  Whats 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