Текст песни G Project - Trouble

Big Beat Vol.3
Жанр: Industrial / Breakbeat / Big Beat
Исполнитель: G Project
Альбом: Big Beat Vol.3
Длительность: 02:49
Рейтинг: 1703
MP3: Скачать
Загрузил: sarancha


[Verse 1: Pusha T] It’s the blackout, ‘rari got the back out Showing my black ass, engine in the glass house Started in the crack house, Obama went the back route Kill bin Laden, never throw up in the black house Still got the Macs out, pull the mask down like a mascot Still trick with bitchesout with money or with ass shots G.O.O.D had room for one more, I took the last spot Re-up gang Ye done hit the jackpot Whole ‘nother level, then you add fame That’s a whole ‘nother devil, legit drug dealer That’s a whole ‘nother bezel, the carbon Audemar That’s a whole ‘nother metal, but still keep it ghetto Behind the scenes, pull strings like Gepetto The gun blow steam, whistle like a tea kettle Runnin’ like the rebels UNLV Sport shoe on a pedal, I let you niggas settle [Hook: Pusha T] Trouble on my mind I got trouble on my mind Trouble on my mind So much trouble on my mind [Verse 2: Tyler, The Creator] Pharrell said “get ‘em”, so I got ‘em Tripped on Bristol Palin then I accidentally shot ‘em Then it ricocheted and killed the game I’m a problem cause I wanna f-ck the world but not a fan of using condoms Pardon my french, I’m going hard as my dick When I envision my tip on the crust of bitch’s lips Mr. Lipschutz has been trippin’ since I mentioned Reptar’s Triceratops dinosaur dick I feel it in my gut to kill these muthaf-cks As a musk like the arm of my pits You niggas coming shorter than a Bush Wick Bill costume On sale during Christmas in Philly Uhm, well, not really, it’s gettin’ kinda chilly Let’s hit a couple bars and give some bitches wet willies Soaked, getting’ jiggy with it and Bel-Air’s britches With a bag of pills, couple berries and a biscuit [Hook] [Verse 3: Tyler, The Creator] I’m a f-cking walking paradox And a really shitty rapper in my favorite pair of socks ironed pair of dockers Two Glocks cocked screamin’ west side! With the speakers blastin’ a pair of pacs Yonkers 10 milli, you’re silly Thinkin’ that this ‘Preme wasn’t free willy The feeling is neutral, the gang is youthful And f-ckin’ tighter than Chad Hugo’s pupils It’s Wolf Gang and the [Pusha T] With the re-up’s a helluva buzz Rick James said cocaine’s a helluva drug Who else could put the hipsters with felons and thugs And paint a perfect picture of what sellin’ it does? This is for the critics, who doubted the chemistry Two different words, same symmetry And this black art, see the wizardry When you at the top of your game, you make enemies You’ll never finish me [Hook]
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