Work Remix by ASAP Ferg Lyrics Meaning – Uncovering the Grit and Grime of Hustle Culture
Lyrics
I gotta close the window before I record
Cause New York don’t know how to be quiet
[Verse 1: A$Ap Ferg]
Coogi down to the socks like I’m Biggie poppa
Keep your girl head in my Tommy boxers
But really though, she a silly ho
Cause you know the Fergenstein getting plenty dough
She don’t get nothin’ from a n***a though
All she get is hard d**k and some Cheerios
Kinda silly though, but I’m lyrical
Bet I put him in the dirt with the penny loafs
No tint though, on my window
So you see a n***a shining in the Benzo
Balling! Got me feelin’ like Jim Jones, I’m a pimp though
No limp though, couldn’t copy my style in Kinkos
Put in work, run up on a killer then I put him in the dirt
Run up in the buildin’, semi gon’ squirt
That’s what a n***a get when they getting on my nerves
I ain’t lying, lay ’em on the curb
Riding on a killer who be coming at Ferg! (Damn)
Girl you twerk, twerk that kitty girl make it purr
Put in work, Flacko put ’em in the dirt
French got the shovel he gon’ put him in the earth
Trinidad maniac with a all gold hearse
Yeah, uh, put in work
Schoolboy Q with a pound of the purp
So much work he’ll smoke up the Earth
Polo Ground, A$Ap World
[Verse 2: French Montana]
(Haaan!) That ain’t Kanye, that’s Montana
Loose cannon, he shot me so I had to do it
Put him in the dirt, put him in it first
I just sold a swammy with ten hommies on it
Her a** fat, you could park ten Tahoes on it
When they mask up, comin’ for your ice
When they bare-faced, they comin for your life
Baby don’t pray for me pray for the weak
I’m drinkin’ lean, it help me sleep
Illuminati? I’m from the streets
Never sold my body, we takin’ bodies
[Hook:]
Put in work, put in work
Put in work, put ’em in the dirt
[Verse 3: Trinidad James]
Shout out that motherland, 12 years old with guns in hand
They don’t ask no questions, n***a, all they do is bang bang bang
They don’t ask no questions, all they do is bang bang
I said I do this for them shottas, Trinidad I love ya
I do this for them shottas, Jamaica I’m your brother
I know a b***h from vi, yeah yeah yeah that’s my partner
You got a problem with it, then, then, then, then that’s your problem
I f**k with Asian n****s And I f**k with Migos
I f**k with Haitian n****s, all they speak is Creole
I said all I speak is real, y’all n****s might hate me but
That don’t get no deal, I said no that don’t get no deal
I just now got my deal, but I been gettin’ this money
No green card in this struggle, immigration give you nothing but work
(Put it in work)
[Verse 4: Schoolboy Q]
Yawk, Yawk, Yawk, Yawk!
A lotta n****s died, should’ve been from Hoover Street
No I do not have a car, but I could buy one every week
Pimpin’ like I’m 33, move keys like I’m 36
Ship O’s like I’m 28, Tacoma know I’m pushin’ weight
O-X-Y I’m in your state, eatin’ off your dinner plate
My heart live where Santa stay, super fly, I need a cape
B*****s throwin’ p***y back and forth, they on my d**k
Passion drippin’ off her lip, she say she never had a crip
Uh, put in work, all big booties make ya twerk
All big titties lift your shirt, show a player what you’re worth
Yeah, put in work, spray his a** in front the Church
Deacon said I did my s**t, the pastor said, “That nigga turnt”
Pop my collar on my shirt, make these b*****s go berserk
Shippin’ units, Captain Kirk, takin’ xannies poppin’ percs
Might not last, I’ll bomb ya first, turn your backseat to a hearse
Back to the lab with mother Earth, had to give Young Ferg a verse
[Verse 5: A$Ap Rocky]
A lot of homies cried, due to crimes, homicide
Drivin’ by, poppin’ nines, Pakistan, Columbine
Out of line, pistols barkin’ “Ar, ar” ride or die
Write a script, design a line, all I see is dollar signs
You want that pretty Flacko? Ratchets, designer jackets
The same n****s who jack it be the first who claim we faggots
My b***h is a movie actress, side b***h won a beauty pageant
Got a chick that worked at Magic
But I’m so damn fine make a b***h look average
See my daddy in heaven, right next to Ferg’s
You know what’s up I’m throwin’ bucks, Loaded Lux, put in work
In the visceral landscape of hip-hop, ASAP Ferg’s ‘Work Remix’ emerges as an anthem that transcends mere music, infiltrating the culture with a raw depiction of life on the hustle. Bestowed upon listeners as part of the ASAP Mob’s collective rise, this track exemplifies the very grit and grind that fuels the machine of urban existence.
While the surface-level braggadocio is apparent, delving deeper into the ‘Work Remix’ is akin to exploring the psyche of the streets. The track’s pulsating base and relentless verses from an all-star roster craft a multi-layered narrative bristling with ambition, struggle, and survival.
The Spirit of New York: Beyond the Noise
Ferg initiates the track by demanding silence from the boisterous city that never sleeps, illustrating an artist’s need for isolation amidst chaos. This introduction sets the tone for a narrative that will be anything but quiet, paradoxically highlighting the unstoppable hustle bustle of New York City that forms the persistent hum and rhythm in the lives of those wedded to its streets.
Symbolically, this speaks to tantamount effort required to make oneself heard above the din – a metaphor for the clamorous climb to the top in a city overcrowded with dreams and the dreamers who dare to chase them.
Decoding the Uniform of the Hustle
ASAP Ferg’s penchant for opulent threads ‘Coogi down to the socks, like I’m Biggie poppa,’ links his contemporary narrative to the legacy of hip-hop’s golden era, invoking the spirit of the Notorious B.I.G. This sartorial nod acts as an assertion of status and success that is inherent to the genre, tying the grit of current endeavors to the grandeur of past triumphs.
Juxtaposing luxury with the harsh reality on the streets, Ferg’s wardrobe serves as his armor in the battlefield of industry, resonating with a theme of protecting and projecting one’s image in a society where appearance often predicates respect and authority.
Power Moves and the Currency of Respect
The recurring proclamation to ‘Put in work, put ’em in the dirt,’ is a stark embodiment of the relentless perseverance and often ruthless nature of climbing the socio-economic ranks. This refrain reverberates through the verses as a call to action and a testament to the Herculean efforts required to prevail within the unforgiving concrete jungles.
This mantra is echoed by each collaborator, sharing their storied journeys and the fortitude it takes to execute ‘power moves.’ The narrative reveals the cold currency of respect, earned through tangible achievements and a reputation solidified by grit, not by mere words or intentions.
The Hidden Narrative of Survival
Connecting to deeper strands woven through ‘Work Remix’ reveals a somber reflection on survival. Trinidad James’s verse portrays a harrowing image of child soldiers, a reminder that for many, the hustle starts tragically early, robbing innocence but imbuing a steely resolve borne from necessary adaptation to environments where only the strong survive.
The verse also sheds light on the diverse cultural backgrounds that contribute to the narrative’s tapestry, marking territorial and communal bonds that influence the very fabric of their work ethic. Each artist, in revealing their raw grind, hoists a flag of brotherhood, bound by the shared grind of seeking to prevail over societal and personal demons.
Echoes of the Underdog in Lines that Resonate
From Schoolboy Q’s reverberating ‘Yawk, Yawk, Yawk, Yawk!’ – an auditory battle cry – to ASAP Rocky’s final verse deflection of slander with a relentless focus on wealth accumulation, the track’s memorable lines capture the essence of the underdog’s commentary. These are voices looking to dismantle predeterminations of failure with defiant success and an almost singular focus on reaping dividends from their bared ambitions.
More than just music, these lines resonate as a creed for those on the grind, a reassurance that beyond the blood, sweat, and tears, the hustle can bear fruit. It’s a narrative of hope wrapped in the veneer of brash confidence, serving as a potent reminder of the artist’s undeniable role as society’s megaphone for the touched and untouched victories in the streets.
