Songtexte Trouble Man (feat. T.F & Boldy James) - Boldy James , T.F , The Alchemist
Okay,
okay,
look
I
grew
up
squeezing
pistols
outta
smoking
rentals
That
was
like
candy,
it
ran
through
her
dental,
uh
This
yellow
tape
with
Alchemist
on
instrumentals
I
guess
I'm
solid
Since
they
judge
you
on
the
shit
you
been
through
Who
you
kin
to?
Who
you
friends
with?
It
ain't
no
dead
weight,
it's
only
deadlifts
Headshots,
leave
a
neck
slit
When
it
come
to
balling,
I
hope
your
niggas
set
picks
Look,
we
gotta
score
End
up
on
the
shore
with
some
Spanish
bitches
Each
one
of
them,
mi
amor
Classic
like
the
Diadoras
and
wood
grain
rifles
The
company
I
keep,
I
consider
'em
idols
Look,
God
mode
You
can't
see
me
even
if
you
lost
that
blindfold
You
can't
beat
me,
I
Gorilla
bitch
this
Congo,
concrete
jungle
I
know
some
niggas
who
lost
weight
but
never
lost
they
muscle
I
know
some
niggas
who
lost
weight
but
never
lost
they
hustle
Everything
scandalous,
peach
and
rugers
is
muzzled
Just
caught
a
body
in
my
sleep,
I
need
a
dream
chaser
Pics
of
John
Gotti
and
me,
saved
on
my
screensaver
I
put
some
money
on
your
head,
that's
a
quick
weave
Bet
they
won't
even
notice
he
was
missing
till
a
week
later
I
put
in
pain
for
this
shit,
this
ain't
no
cheap
labor
'Cause
when
it
come
to
felonies,
it
ain't
no
free
favors
Lined
him
up
with
two
of
his
mans,
gave
them
three
tapers
Motherfuck
the
blender,
we
gon'
put
him
in
the
cheese
grater
Yeah,
where
we
at?
From
the
land
of
the
scant,
to
the
home
of
the
scurvy
Could
never
put
my
stamp
on
it,
'cause
he
was
never
sturdy
How
I
look
beefing
with
some
niggas
I
ain't
never
heard
of?
Younging,
he
ain't
never
caught
a
sentence,
quick
to
catch
a
murder
Trapping
out
of
state
in
Louis
V,
Supreme
Slapping
all
this
bass,
I
show
you
why
they
call
me
B.B.
King
Better
leave
a
nigga
be,
cause
if
I'm
feeling
bothered
Them
niggas
with
them
223s
quick
to
kill
a
toddler
Wicked
thoughts
of
a
demon
committing
cardinal
sin
Pray
it
keep
me
shielded
from
the
evil
in
the
hearts
of
men
Got
stripped
of
all
them
precious
metals,
that
was
gold
plated
Lucifer's
advocate,
the
Devil
got
my
soul
tainted
Ankle
monitor
on
my
foot,
out
on
the
bond
Baby
Saigon,
come
to
my
hood,
it
look
like
Lebanon
I'll
walk
you
down
with
that
drum
like
the
second
line
And
leave
your
brains
on
the
curb,
but
don't
pay
me
no
never
mind
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