Think We Got A Problem (feat. Bun B & The Game) feat. Bun B,The Game

歌詞

[Chorus: Repeat 2X] I think we got a problem, got a got a problem I think we got a problem, got a got a problem I think we got a problem, got a got a problem Think we got a problem, think we got a problem Think we got a problem, mask on, show you how to rob 'em Revolver, show you how to solve'm Drivin' down Harlem, the Aston a problem No tint fishbowl it ain't hard to spot him Think we got a problem, weed got too much Only thing damn I'm down to my last dutch Think we got a problem, but really it ain't dough There's one of me, and these bitches I count about three four Think we got a problem, the homey just all talk He ain't gon' pop a balloon with a pitch fork Think we got a problem in the club with this dogg Rude boy, starks, ladies, everybody [Chorus: ] Think we got a problem, Game in Manhattan Black on black Aston, the 21 strapped in Dominican chick ridin' shotty all strapped in Customize the dash on my shotgun strapped in Cops on the shoulder gotta pull a Hova Time to fade to black cause I ain't pullin' ova The engine is a problem, that ain't no question Pop the trunk see the speakers kickin' like Beckham Think we got a problem, Sheek know I'm hot Kiss and Styles should make me a member of the Lox I take all the beats, I remember how to box If I ever get knocked out, I remember how to pop Remember how to load everything inside my glock Ask the niggas in the hood 'cause they remember who I shot Think we got a problem, I snitched on myself And I hate rats so I dugg a ditch for myself, what [Chorus: ] Well it's the king of the trill Bun B'der you know the name And the streets is like the NBA, I love this game Keep a bottle of Henessey, a blunt and that purp With my hand up on my heater, and my killaz on churp You see me one deep in the spot, think I'm slippin', try ya luck 'Cause I got sixteen homeys with me, that stay ready to buck You can duck dodge or dive, but it won't do diddley squat But leave ya with a leaky liver and both ya kidneys shot But you may not pimpin' I ain't fin to ask for it My money, my hood or my respect, I'm a blast for it You can't push fast forward, rewind or pause I'm a beat you till you shittin' ya draws, so call the laws cause [Chorus: ]