Frost - Yeah We Do It (heartaches) lyrics

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[Scoop DeVille]"Heartaches are madeThat's howHeartaches are madeThat's howHeartaches are""Are, heart, are-are, heart""Are, heart, are-are, heartaches""Heart, are-are, heart""Are-are, heart, are-are-are, well" --> Baby Washington[Verse 1: Frost]Heartaches and pain, much I've overcameSomething's don't change, but I did my thangI'm the mayor of the ghetto, involved with politicsCash in the rank, and I'm making dividendsThe Godfather, if it ain't business, then why botherThe Streets On Lock like I'm Hot DollarYeah, I'm big, I'm the Don DadaI'm the fellow that'll rock it like I'm Sean CarterSplit it up, back it up, that's productDouble up, triple up, that's properShipments from overseas on boatsAnd when they you it's puro, that's dopeFrost, I see like Mikey the jewelerIt's legal when I open like I'm Rick RulerPut it on a triple beam, boy, that's weightAnd make no mistake, so you can come without heartachesChorus: Omar CruzDoin' eighty-fiveBurner on the waist lineWe ride or dieDo it for the west sideWe flyin' high, so them haters can't test mineEvery time we showin' up, they pullin' out the best wineYeah, we do itYeah, we do itYeah, we do it, we was born to do itYeah, we do this, daily on the grindTwenty-four seven, three sixty-five[Verse 2: Big Tank]The chain goes clickity-clack, to my reactionTake action and expose all these motherfuckin' faggotsRussian roulette, you scared, fuck a bulletI came in the game, spit flames, let's do thisPriest like Judas, preach, I'm a beastIt's been proven, Beastie Boy, Rick RubinI get a price cut, call it wholesaleYou know we move traffic, like DenzelCali got more colors than pastelCause I'm a winner, son, nahI never failThis is a job made, just fade awayAnd still I'm sittin' here, dealing with these heartachesRepeat Chorus[Verse 3: Omar Cruz]I'm from the streets of Los Angeles, homey, home of the braveWhere the wrong colors rave will have you up in a graveThey say only the real make it out of L.A.But I'm still here, and the whole city sayin' my nameOn my back like a P.O., shadier than a C.O.Faggots talk shit, but they don't really wanna see O.Them haters all writin' woof ticketsBut in my face, they quiet, you only hear cricketsSame catch, runnin' off of the dick LakersBangin' O. for a few, "Say O. Cruz, can I kick it" (Yeah)Wild wild west, Tribe Called QuestSnatch the mic from these bitches like Kanye West (Cruz)Repeat Chorus