Trouble (Live)

DJ Quik

[Verse 1]
I'm not ya one hit wonder
And when you see me on the streets in a black Jeep
Know I got the heat up under
Not up under the seat, up under my cheek
Like so close to me that when I move it squeaks
I ain't no big buff dude, I'm a rap singer
I exercise one muscle, that's my strap finger
And I can't call it how I see it no more
'Cause these n***as'll take your words back and twist 'em like a pretzel
And these b*t*hes be the same, too
Comin' with that sob story, crocodile tеars tryin' to game you
And that's exactly what the gamе do
And if you ever get caught dirty with a homie, she gon' blame you
So what in the hell you wanna floss her for?
It's supposed to be 'bout what a baller n***a cost that ho, yes
You givin' a game of black eye in your S5
While you n***as kick back poppin' E, you let that b*t*h drive
And that b*t*h supposed to carry her own car note
And don't be going for that sh*t "I got a sore throat"
Give that b*t*h a couple of Sucrets
Or give that that ho that application down on Vernon to that duplex
Formula, come on

[Chorus]
When I bubble, it's trouble
n***as gettin' big money on the double
Fast lane, champagne, rubber to burn
Gettin' rich, b*t*h, is the only concern
When I bubble, it's trouble
n***as gettin' big money on the double
Fast lane, champagne, rubber to burn
Gettin' rich, b*t*h, is the only concern
It's the only concern

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