Lyrics Trouble On My Mind - Pusha T feat. Tyler, the Creator
It's
the
blackout,
'rari
got
the
back
out
Showing
my
black
ass,
engine
in
the
glass
house
Started
in
the
crack
house,
Obama
went
the
back
route
Kill
Bin
Laden,
'nother
four
up
in
the
black
house
Still
got
the
MACs
out,
pull
the
mask
down
like
a
mascot
Still
trick
with
bitches,
out
with
money
or
with
ass
shots
G.O.O.D.
had
room
for
one
more,
I
took
the
last
spot
Re-Up
Gang,
P
the
nigga,
'Ye
done
hit
the
jackpot
Whole
'nother
level,
then
you
add
fame
That's
a
whole
'nother
devil,
legit
drug
dealer
That's
a
whole
'nother
bezel,
the
carbon
Audemar
That's
a
whole
'nother
metal,
but
still
keep
it
ghetto
Behind
the
scenes,
pull
strings
like
Gepetto
The
gun
blow
steam,
whistle
like
a
tea
kettle
Runnin'
like
the
rebels,
you
and
LV
sport
shoe
on
a
pedal
I
let
you
niggas
settle
(yeugh!)
Trouble
on
my
mind
I
got
trouble
on
my
mind
Trouble
on
my
mind
So
much
trouble
on
my
mind
Trouble
on
my
mind
I
got
trouble
on
my
mind
Trouble
on
my
mind
So
much
trouble
on
my
mind
Pharrell
said
"get
'em",
so
I
got
'em
Tripped
on
Bristol
Palin
then
I
accidentally
shot
'em
Then
it
ricocheted
and
killed
the
game,
I'm
a
problem
'Cause
I
wanna
fuck
the
world
but
not
a
fan
of
using
condoms
Pardon
my
French,
I'm
going
hard
as
my
dick
When
I
envision
my
tip
on
the
crust
of
bitch
lips
Mr.
Lipschitz
has
been
trippin'
Since
I
mentioned
Reptar
triceratops
dinosaur
dick
I
feel
it
in
my
gut
to
kill
these
muthafucks
Is
a
must,
like
the
arm
of
my
pits
You
niggas
coming
shorter
than
a
Bushwick
Billy
costume
On
sale
during
Christmas
in
Philly
Um,
well,
not
really,
it's
getting
kinda
chilly
Let's
hit
a
couple
bars
and
give
some
bitches
wet
willies
Soaked,
getting
jiggy
with
it
in
Bel-Air's
richest
With
a
bag
of
pills,
couple
berries
and
a
biscuit
Trouble
on
my
mind
I
got
trouble
on
my
mind
Trouble
on
my
mind
So
much
trouble
on
my
mind
Trouble
on
my
mind
I
got
trouble
on
my
mind
Trouble
on
my
mind
So
much
trouble
on
my
mind
I'm
a
fucking
walking
paradox
And
a
really
shitty
rapper
in
my
favorite
pair
of
socks
Ironed
pair
of
dockers,
two
Glocks
cocked
screamin',
"West
side!"
With
the
speakers
blastin'
a
pair
of
Pacs
Yonkers
ten
milli,
you're
silly
Thinkin'
that
this
'preme
wasn't
free,
willy
The
feeling
is
neutral,
the
gang
is
youthful
And
fuckin'
tighter
than
Chad
Hugo's
pupils,
it's
Wolf
Gang
and
the
With
the
Re-Up's
a
helluva
buzz
Rick
James
said
cocaine's
a
helluva
drug
Who
else
could
put
the
hipsters
with
felons
and
thugs
And
paint
a
perfect
picture
of
what
sellin'
it
does?
This
is
for
the
critics,
who
doubted
the
chemistry
Two
different
worlds,
same
symmetry
And
this
black
art,
see
the
wizardry
when
you
at
the
top
Of
your
game,
you
make
enemies,
you'll
never
finish
me
Trouble
on
my
mind
I
got
trouble
on
my
mind
Trouble
on
my
mind
So
much
trouble
on
my
mind
Trouble
on
my
mind
I
got
trouble
on
my
mind
Trouble
on
my
mind
So
much
trouble
on
my
mind
Attention! Feel free to leave feedback.