Problems

By Quota

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[Intro]

Uh! Uh! Uh! A-Town! A-Town!

Yeah! Yeah! LT Moe on this motherfucking track nigga!

C'mon! GMM! C'mon! Yeah!

Stat! Quo! Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!

Uh! Uh! Lotta niggas talking that bullshit, yeah!

We gon do that and do this here

C'mon! You don't want no motherfucking problem bitch ass nigga

A-Town! Yeah! Uh!


[Verse]

Where you from? I'm from the A hoe

Said I'm out, been bucking on bustas and gettin that pay hoe

Our minds is paid for, hit the blocks like Lego

Keep their hands on the special

Cause they'll show you what tecs do

Them boys is drama driven, raised by the system

Listen, they bust to survive

Your squad be bustin for recognition

Frontin and ass kissin, industury pussy nigga

They gankin your batter before it get to the cookie nigga

Them killas live round here, don't bring your ass down here

Niggas have a tendency to act up and clown here

Tote thangs, no thang, get thangs ain't no game down here

Bright white to brown in grand money exchange here

You already know what it is playa, APD can't save ya

Your time's up, flat line, shorty see ya later

No amount of favors, no amount of paper

Can't stop the inevitable death of a hater


[Chorus - repeat 2x]

And you don't want problems, bitch nigga believe it

Their hand is on the trigger and they ready to squeeze it

So save all that drama, them boys tote armor

I'll have you laying dead right in front of yo mama


[Verse]

News is real folk

You don't wanna make it on there

It's dangerous niggas wan't warfare playa

Ain't no "oops" "I'm sorry" or "my bad" shit

Skulls split wide open for some dumbass shit

Young wipper snapper flappin his lip

Part of the game is this

They marksmen homes, they don't miss

Cops come, they don't snitch

No witnesses at the crime scene

Just your body leaking at Yao Ming

When the lights go off pimp, the sharks come out

Thangs bang out, bust till ya brains hang out

Come to your house, sitting on your porch where ya live

Waiting till ya come back to the crib

I'm trying to tell ya how

This ain't bout no rap song, it's real life

Can't nobody tell ya what gettin killed, feel like

The trill is trill, the fake is fake

And they don't make bulletproof vests for ya face, YEAH!

[Chorus] (2x)