* also appears on the _Butter_ Soundtrack and Mag's "Hustlaz Heaven"
 [Mag] (Castro) "Car Wash sample"
 "Hey!"
 Butter.
 "One of us! Right away!"
 "Work"
 Uh  where all my hustlers?
 (Where them thugs at?)
 All my ballers.
 What  let's do it like this. (Get up!)
 Uh  what.
 (Indiana  Indiana!)
 "Work"
 Mag in this muth yo.
 Killa Castro from Queens  trigga Treach.
 (New Jeru, Dirty Jerz.)

 [Mag]
 Well can you get it like I get it, I got to get my blood
 Known for slangin yayo and part the lick with my thugs
 Fuck you, fuck your crew fool and all that shit
 Bitch, it's a new nigga on the premesis
 "Work"
 Ah, puttin it down like I knows to
 What, splittin these hata's wigs like I'm supposed to
 Whenever you, wanna act the fool, and come and test
 Get that ak slug through your vest
 Forget your dog, get bucked
 Wind up and see you with all the garbage stuck
 Now you in the depths of Hell, feel like damn it ain't my lucky day
 Never shoulda looked my way, motherfucker
 Don't trust your bitch ass fool as far as I can thrust ya
 Don't make no sudden moves fool and I won't have to bust ya
 Trigga Treach he got his pistol do
 We puttin in work from here to Russia fool
 So what the fuck y'all here to do
 "Work"
 Huh, and it's on like that
 Motherfucker and it's on like that
 "I puts in work"
 And it's on like that
 Yo dog I hope you cleaned your strap
 "Uh huh, cuz I puts in work"

 [Castro]
 Fatal how the hood'll hate you, caught up in drama
 Colors and ganja like black autototes for armor
 Millies and macks never the same pocket
 Kept his phillies and crack how the streets rock it
 Switch em, b cases like he fathered the system
 Organized block cinemas away from the prison
 With souls, lost rows and so on
 Fall victim to the streets and so much can go wrong
 Rebels meet crumble and majesties for salaries
 Out of towners and goose downers introduce pounders
 A lay loot for power evil roots shoot through cowards
 Lettin other niggas just regulate they hours
 Coke or chronic, philly roll millie by his scrotum
 Barrel x to g packs
 Never got along with cops, like it was Brett Favre and D backs
 It's how rap cats believe that
 "Just puttin in work"
 And it's on like that
 Castro, you know it's on like that
 "Huh huh huh huuuh work"
 And it's on like that
 Yeah y'all we gettin it on like that
 "Puttin it in y'all, puttin it in y'all"

 [Treach]
 Check it, I get deep voice like Barry
 All you keep, naw you keep
 Forgot I got permit to carry
 All you sleep
 Look at me, his face I'll bury
 I look at you and say that's what happens when cousins marry
 "Work"
 Hate that funk shit, don't show up
 Tore up from the floor up
 My gat's so fat it needs to loose weight like hold up
 On the run huh, it might be bailin in a Bronco
 I be layin low from Rocko
 In a condo outside of Toronto
 How I feel about y'all poppin shit
 Like a constipated port a lot of noise but you ain't droppin shit
 This is me here, it ain't no other man
 Always into somebody's business like you was (?)
 "Work"
 Nigga I puts in like ten men
 Kick up more dust than dirt
 Drinkin more gin than Vin
 Well see no El Nino or ghetto tsunami
 Couldn't drop up on me so we got to fuck over Tommy
 "I puts in work"
 I puts in work, and it's on like that
 Motherfucker with them snakes and rats
 I puts in work
 "Work"
 And it's on like that
 Hope you motherfuckers watch your back
 Cuz I puts in work
 "Work"
 "New Jerus y'all Dirty Jerz y'all"
 "Work"
 "Ah ow, Indiana comin on through"
 "Work"
 "Oh, what it mean y'all comin from Queens"
 "Work"
 "Hey, put it down for my town