[Intro: T.I. & Mac Boney]
Uhh, yah!
Hah, hah, hah, yeah (Hah!)
Fuck y'all n***as want with a n***a like me man? (Hahahahaha)
Eat you n***as for dinner, I’m a winner partner
Hah!

[Chorus: Mac Boney]
Don't get it fucked up
Don't get it fucked up
You know you don't want these problems
N***a, you know you don't want these problems
N***a, don't get it fucked up
Don't get it fucked up
You know you don't want these problems
N***a, you know you don't want these problems

[Verse 1: T.I.]
I got a snub nose, for you fuck hoes
Steady talkin tough, I bet you ain't gon' buck though
I’m a gangsta bitch, we aimin' like you ain't tonight
I ain't ridin' with that fire? Shawty, sure you right
Pow! Me slip like how?
On the low between us, I'm strapped right now
Yeah, Fed case ain't nothing to me
I’m a headcase, know that when you run into me
Get money, every G you make, it like a hundred to me
I'm Fred Sanford, son these n***as, they big dummies to me
Okay? Now get some paper if you wanna play
Have ya head in my hallway for 100K
[Pre-Chorus: T.I.]
If you know it or you don't, n***a, this ain’t what you want
Keep on playin' with me hatin' and you ain't gon' make it home
If you know it or you don’t, n***a, this ain’t what you want
Think cause I went to prison I won't put that pistol to yo' dome?

[Chorus: Mac Boney]
Don't get it fucked up
Don't get it fucked up
You know you don't want these problems
N***a, you know you don't want these problems
N***a, don't get it fucked up
Don't get it fucked up
You know you don't want these problems
N***a, you know you don't want these problems

[Verse 2: B.o.B]
It’s funny how n***as get hype when they get on stage with a mic
You know I see 'em, bitin' the style, cool
They still can't deliver it right
I’ve been killin' this shit for so long, I don’t remember the hype
What's that like? They ain't really 'bout that life
They ain't really 'bout that life
No lie on this mic, chillin' with habitual whores
Hit her with the hammer like Thor
This ain't no Ford, this a G4 ho, act like you been here before
Opened up the suicide doors
Like I jumped out the window of the 25th floor
Ready for war, I came out the womb with a sword
Cut my umbilical chord
See I'm headin' where you ain’t never been
We are not the same and that’s evident
I make flexin' just look so effortless
Hit that celery 'til I'm hella bent
See these hoes, these hoes ain’t celibate
And they ain't hesitant, not at all
For a n***a with a proper drawl
She give me that box like a post office dropped it off
And that's real
[Pre-Chorus: T.I.]
If you know it or you don't, n***a, this ain’t what you want
Keep on playin' with me hatin' and you ain't gon' make it home
If you know it or you don’t, n***a, this ain’t what you want
Think cause I went to prison I won't put that pistol to yo' dome?

[Chorus: Mac Boney]
Don't get it fucked up
Don't get it fucked up
You know you don't want these problems
N***a, you know you don't want these problems
N***a, don't get it fucked up
Don't get it fucked up
You know you don't want these problems
N***a, you know you don't want these problems

[Verse 3: Problem]
Yeah, no, TIP, I got these hoes
Live big way, got a sake pose
Carpeted up like way a lady's flows
N***a you a bitch, where ya lady clothes?
Put 'em all now
Real n***a act, you better put it now
You better go for the Oscar cause impostors
Will get whack n***as, that’s mobsters (What?)
That ain’t playing that
N***as wanna sleep, I lay 'em down
Shinin', you see the ring-a-round?
No recess in this circle, we don’t play around
With my zig-zags, I J it down in this motherfucker real quick
Life be a bitch, well I'm gon' serve her this big dick
Boy, this Compton, Diamond Lane, me and y'all, it’s not the same
Same n***a without the game, keep shit, it ain’t potty trained
Big bucks like a shotty bang, bad boy with that naughty chain
Big stripes like referees, but homeboy, this is not a game
So, break bread with the real bruh (What?)
And make sure you live life 'til it kill ya (What?)
Drop another molly in my tequila (What?)
'Til my life and my dreams look familiar
[Chorus: Mac Boney]
Don't get it fucked up
Don't get it fucked up
You know you don't want these problems
N***a, you know you don't want these problems
N***a, don't get it fucked up
Don't get it fucked up
You know you don't want these problems
N***a, you know you don't want these problems

[Verse 4: Trae tha Truth]
'Bout the drama, I'm back n***a
Still the king and that’s a fact n***a
Fuck talkin, I'm that n***a, that's one deep, no pact n***a
Bad boy, no act n***a, no internet but I'm at n***as
New McLaren all black n***a
That’s front and center like Shaq n***a
In the game but don't play round
Try this shit with me, you get layed down
I stick and move, I don’t stay round
Make the hardest n***a turn greyhound
I don’t talk the talk, I just run shit
How you think you me but ain't done shit?
Could go bananas on some shit, I keep a team on that dumb shit
I keep a strap that just might clap, money low and I might trap
Yeah I’m on it, fuck my opponent, he run up on me, I might snap
Got me feelin' like fuck 'em, I'm face to face, I don’t duck 'em
My heat in hand, I don’t tuck 'em, I don’t body bag 'em, I stuff 'em
With hot shit, hot shit, yeah I'm talkin bout hot shit
With heavy metal, I rock shit to show I'm 'bout but you not shit
I go for real, just ask TIP, I green light my quick trip
Six n***as hoppin' out one whip
Go to reconstructing your whole whip

[Chorus: Mac Boney]
Don't get it fucked up
Don't get it fucked up
You know you don't want these problems
N***a, you know you don't want these problems
N***a, don't get it fucked up
Don't get it fucked up
You know you don't want these problems
N***a, you know you don't want these problems

[Verse 5: Young Dro]
I’m a down shore baller, ATL stunner
Bitch leave me, I'ma take everything from her
Please try a n***a where I’m from with that drama
So we can fire pistols at yo goddamn mama
Let me find out you layin' on me for riches
Cut his head off, leave his forehead in the kitchen
Warming your eyeballs on the stove, the other missin'
I think his head exploded, that n***a teeth in the dishes
Hey when you learned that at partner?
I learned this shit in the trenches
I am at a n***a just like Twitter, follow my mentions
4-4 deuce cutlass, deuce Budniks extensions
Hey you can't hustle on nan' street 'til KT gave you permission
Hustle Gang!

[Pre-Chorus: T.I.]
If you know it or you don't, n***a, this ain’t what you want
Keep on playin' with me hatin' and you ain't gon' make it home
If you know it or you don’t, n***a, this ain’t what you want
Think cause I went to prison I won't put that pistol to yo' dome?

[Chorus: Mac Boney]
Don't get it fucked up
Don't get it fucked up
You know you don't want these problems
N***a, you know you don't want these problems
N***a, don't get it fucked up
Don't get it fucked up
You know you don't want these problems
N***a, you know you don't want these problems