Stat Quo - Problems lyrics
rate me
[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 niggaz 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 Niggaz have a tendency to act up and clown here Tote thangs, no thang, good their ain't no game down here Bright white to brown in grand money exchange here You already know what it is playa, a PD 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 x2] 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 niggaz 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 x2]
