I Aint Goin

TroubleTrouble 

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Trouble

Trouble is an American doom metal band noted as one of the pioneers of their genre, alongside bands such as Candlemass and Saint Vitus. The band created a distinct style taking influences of the British heavy metal bands Black Sabbath and Judas Priest, and psychedelic rock of the 1970s. A critically acclaimed group, their first two albums, Psalm 9 and The Skull are cited as landmarks of doom metal, and their early 1990s releases on Def American would take a more stoner metal oriented direction. To date, Trouble has released six studio albums. Although the band never officially broke up, Trouble was plagued by extended inactivity after their original singer Eric Wagner left in 1997. He eventually rejoined in 2000 before leaving again eight years later. more »

Year:

2018

3:11

94 Views

Playlists:

#1

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Goin' back to being broke
I had roaches in my crib 
Sticks and seeds all in my smoke (God bless)
Holiday season
I ain't goin' back to being broke (not me, not me)
I ain't goin' back to being broke (not me, not me)

I ain't goin' back to being broke
I had roaches in my crib, sticks and c's all in my smoke
I had niggas jealous of me 'fore I ever had to gloat
Eviction notice on the door, my bed was on the floor
Oh lord, I ain't going back to being broke
Wake up, going trap was all we know
Make a couple racks, go get some more
Break it down and vacuum seal the smoke

Woke up, snatched my pistol out the couch
Niggas just robbed the connect
Get your shit, we gotta bounce
We was almost grabbing P's
We was gettin' it by the ounce
So, I took a trip down south
We put up enough to get a house
Shit got hot and we got out
Back up top, I need a block
Pooch could cook, just need a pot
You say you got work, I don't need it now
I'm in a drop and I'm speedin' (skrt)
Talking police, I don't see them now
I got the Glock for no reason (no reason)
It's hard to tell who be scheming now
I ain't going back to selling smoke
Going back to selling pills
Loaded weapon in my coat
Now I'm somewhere in the Hills
Private jet, Givenchy clothes
Need some Fronto, I could roll
Shit, I'm counting, got me cold (ice cold)

I ain't goin' back to being broke
I had roaches in my crib, sticks and c's all in my smoke
I had niggas jealous of me 'fore I ever had to gloat
Eviction notice on the door, my bed was on the floor
Oh lord, I ain't going back to being broke
Wake up, going trap was all we know
Make a couple racks, (Holiday Season) go get some more
Break it down and vacuum seal the smoke

Ayy, I bought them in the back, and posted slums is where I come from
Rats and roaches, Henny toasting ease the pain to keep calm
I picked up the pistol before I ever seen a pack
Turned up by the streets then I went turned out the snakes
How deep is that, I'ma tell ya
Pop was always in and out, same way as my trap, yeah
Doors swinging, niggas banging, that .40 still on my lap, don't need your hoe
Put family first and be about your paper
Never thought you'd see my Bloods united, thuggin' with all these neighbors
We're talking Crips, real drip
Whenever you see Scoob, I'm talking never
Will I ever go back back, what I'm used to, I was so broke
Roam at home, I had shit by my lonely on it
If I was born in slave days, they had to store me, I'm so rebellious
F*ck niggas jealous, they always have been, I'ma tell you
My nigga, I'm telling you
I don't f*ck with has-beens, I save ya
Young nigga save ya
Anything we have been, when beef, I bring all the flame
I guess I'm trapping no failure
I will not save ya, you can ask my past friend, I'm ridin'
On buns off bih, John Gotti henchmen
I was slipping, I was falling but a nigga got the f*ck up
Thank you God for my hard times and God it's all love

Lord, I ain't goin' back to being broke
I ain't goin' back to being broke
Lord, I ain't goin' back to being broke
I ain't goin' back to being broke
Love, I swear to God this shit don't get old
Go get them bags, nigga

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