the problem - chuck mason lyrics
[intro]
aww sh*t
yep, up top, yeah
[verse]
all praise to the most high
and all praise to myself ho
number one fan of my own sh*t
knew i was the best when ain’t n0body else know
everybody else know
all my n*ggas on a higher plane, so we operate in stealth mode
had to put my name parallel to propane
if they throw flame, sh*t everybody else blow
now my sh*t bumpin’ like braille
i just want the cover of the double x*l
i just want the fame and the b*tchеs
i just want the claim to the riches
i just want thе flame to the bridges
n*ggas want my fresh, want my depth
n*ggas want my life, n*ggas want my death
want my wife, n*ggas want my ex
n*ggas want my flight and wanna trip my step, bet
put my city on top, suma cum laude
oooo, god. eat these lil n*ggas like a cougar do
goin’ in they skin like a tumor
plus a lil p*ssy wanna do me like in mulan rouge
two sign, deuce. two times two
lil n*ggas’ head like a noose gone loose
in the club ace of spades, ice cold
but i bet the faint of heart can’t trump my suit, oooo
name a motherf*cka who gone stop this or top this
a tall black andy milanakis? just stop it
flow so wet, i should mop it
chuck m mohammed, cpa. i’m such a prophet or profit
tried to let you motherf*ckas hold this
i hope this, brings back faith to the hopeless
i note this, might be fifth a magnum opus
felt god control my right hand when i wrote this
soaked this in nitro, sparked it with a nice flow
now spectators, speculatin’ like it might blow
hold up … b*tch, whatchu mean might blow
nightsons ensured me for the hit like geico
i’m in this to win this
my dj break records no guinness
please keep your hands off my g*nius
just keep your head on my p*n*s and b*tch just bob
i just can’t stop, you bet not stop
even when i’m on top, got a fear i’m gone drop
from that number one spot, but i’m hot
so i burn the game down on my way down
tell them hating rappers better lay it face down
not moved by the sh*t that you spittin’ no ouija
believe me i’m bored, can’t take it no more
i give no f*cks bout an ego and just like an eagle i soar
now i want more
i’m the nightson who they call to show their ass off
scorpion flow, fire spit with the mask off
spazz off, blast off any n*gga spittin’
crown hill burial for any n*gga livin’
coming live from the eastside
heard a young king holler peace god
and i don’t think they want beef now
must’ve lost your f*cking mind
trying to come against the god
i carry your head around like a trophy
lions for lambs
gotta mute the strong so the weak won’t speak
silence the lambs
gotta murk em all so the weak don’t speak, no
[outro]
ahy, you don’t want problems, no
ahy, you don’t want problems, ho
ahy, you don’t want problems with we
chuck m the motherf*cking problem, peace
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