Lyrics:
shit
Instead of TLC, you give us brotha's B.I.G. trouble
We're just Sporty Thievz, huddle game with the illest rebuttal
Repeat 1
Repeat 2
fiend though, I'll come fuck up your whole town like el nino
I'm the hottest nigga you've seen though
Jumpin outta lex coupe
With jimmy jones right next
to nobody while you're there
If you get back, we going shopping for Chanel
Busting checks, and we gon ball
You should be here by tomorrow
We ain't coppin
Whole lot of gang shit know we bout to drop
Twenty acre land new cars off the lot
Riding round town wit a dope boy knot
Know I gotta get it five O's
Beats are all sick like it's Germy yuh (achoo)
Won't stop believing like Journey yuh
You cannot step to me
Not tailing me George
Not George the jungle
It's good to see you baby it's been a long, long while
We're both a whole lot older and seen a lot of miles
But thing are different now since
nigga different, man. You know what I'm sayin'?
Uh, I mean, I could talk about a lot, but bro fought for me, I fought for him
You feel me? That's, I
her a loan
Shit, only thing i leave you is alone
Indeed you could bone, lemme read you a poem
Mom no good for ya, it's da hood for ya
(chorus) {1:09}
in '09 and still no medicare for grandma
I done said out their names and niggas still ain't wanna [?]
Lu probly tell me Trouble you gotta put the mack
drink a lot of syrup, bitches say I'm sleep walking
Big money for the grill, so I'm never cheap talking, yeah
Keep talking and the flame leap off
that way
It's gotta be that way
Now we can't judge what we've got
By the people living next door
Even though Mr. Jones makes
Ooh and he has a whole lot
got to blow up the spot because they must have forget
We double (trouble) bubble (bubble) bubble (bubblin' hot)
now check your stovetop before you
you gotta learn
That everybody gets a turn
Yeah everybody gets a turn
You paid for it
Don’t wait for it
You paid for it
Don’t wait for it
You paid for
Frontin' with ya girlsfriend dress on
You birds wanna take over?
Get some cash and a Jenny Jones makeover
Broke Bitches, I hate Pigeons
Dirty braid Pigeons,
up
'Cause there's a whole lot of money in the ghetto
Yeah, you know
Hey, hey, hey
What'cha got to say?
(They got money in the ghetto)
one
Ima take it for a ride
Super sonic
How I like to fly
Go to mach 10
Do a real fly by
When you hear the boom bap
You look up in the sky
That be Jöí
achieve,
'Bout to be trouble, you scared? I think you betta leave,
Hope you don't have asthma *ahum*, go head and breathe
[Talking:]
Yeah, pull out
Universe is telling me women nothing but trouble
Warning signs blowing by
Guess I like the color red now
Got the bread now
Had me blowing every
bars? Penitentiary (Facts!)
Ain't got no time for no rap beef (No)
I'm grown, you still wearing nappies (Uh)
Got the loud and the mud by the fanny (Blow!)
to go and by the whole 'lot and...
Nigga tried by a whole block and
Tried to hustle, get a whole rock in
Nowadays it was '95, the way my niggas use to red
played shows that were so packed
Won't break ‘til I hear that bone snap
Won't quit ‘til I'm as dope as
George Jones, Boz Scaggs
I'm a Rolling Stone, topaz
got to blow up the spot because they must have forget
We double (trouble) bubble (bubble) bubble (bubblin' hot)
now check your stovetop before you
out a date and time
September 14th, 73
Get ready, world, doctor's in the front waiting for me
Arms open 'cause they know when I drop, a lot of shit's
[Hook by Blam]
This is sumtn' 4 urrbody get yo' hands up
On the grind, money on yo' mind get yo' grands up
If you on top getting hella guap stand up
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