Gucci Mane, Migos, Young Thug - Problems feat. Young Thug

Текст песни

I been balling so long but I don’t want no problems\nKeep that FN in reach, but I don’t want no problems\nHundred thousand worth of crosses, I don’t want no problems\nI know every lock on Slauson, but I don’t want no problems\nPullin up in YSL, these young niggas got problems\nThey can’t see me with that wooly, they gon swear it’s a problem\nI’m gon slide down your hood when you and your girl having problems\nOG bag 'pose to be in, what the world is the problem?\nImma wrap my money it look like Oprah Winfrey\nImma sell one of my mansions, everything new but the kitchen\nAin’t no cypher, no no wrestler, but I’m wrapping in midget\nAnd I’m master selling them P’s, now my money no limit\nI got my bed up, I shed up, don’t let up, no police, I’m fed up\nThey cannot forget us, I got your schedule, I fuck up your schedule\nI shoot at your head, your dreads, they buy us\nYou bitches just know it’s too hard to get by us\nI’m not advertising but boy you can try us\nI sang to your bitch and she call me Mariah\nI see and read everything round me but bibles\nBugatti I swear, I’m not gonna hurt anybody\nI swear I’m not gonna tell anybody\nJust get it this molly and stand right beside me\nI’m with PeeWee Longway\nYou know every day a long day\nYou know I’m not Kanye, but I been rocking since the first day\nI see you walking with that sack, Imma take it like Debo\nMe and Thug in the alleyway, we hit em up below\nIf you tell on my partner DMingo Imma shoot you like free throw\nRun up on my brother Takeoff, Imma whoop you like Rico\nYoung nigga, young nigga, young nigga\nMy nigga keep pistols grenades and missiles\nMy diamonds they cold as icicles I’m trapping and making a deal like a pickle\nI am the nigga you want to be\nMy diamonds they black just like Willie B\nNiggas in the hood they know me\nI walk around with the set, no army\nPorsche Panamera, one button, top gone\nAll these bad bitches, Spanish hoes, Hong Kong\nPlug hit my phone (Brrt) I just need a zone\nBirds singing like harmony but I don’t need a bone\nChoppers and uzis, you talking, we’re shooting\nI’m moving my squad and my family, ain’t no recruiting\nI do what I do, you know I keep it true\nWithout throwing on true, your religion is fool\nOld ass money but the whip brand new\nOn brand new shoes, got brand new jewels\nWhipping that Yayo, looking like mayo\nIt come from Barbados, my wrist is tornado\nI kick it like Kato, hundred round drums\nWalking with bombs, serving the junkies they asking for crumbs\nAnd it ain’t no problem, got that revolver\nThink you a problem, I got to solve you\nWe ducking police like we felons\nPut two hundred on your watermelon\nThat’s your head, or cerebellum\nThese fuck niggas fake niggas know that they telling\nThem tickets them pigeons, you know that I sell them\nMy migo, he hit me, you know that I mail him\nIf Thug want a pack you know Imma let him\nThese fuck niggas ain’t special