Letra de Problems
Hook:I've got problemsIn my fucking houseBitch would you pleaseGet the fuck out[Verse 1]Trust these hoes, they all slickI found out, they ain't shitAlmost was played by my main bitchOver, she tried to pull 1 on quickI'm paperchasing, trying to get richOn a 68 tour with my cliqueShe hit me while I'm on the floor and was likeAin't shit bad cause moms finna uniteI say bad, when its coolBut now, check what this hoe doSlickly moving momma in my houseCause picture the whole wild she put outNow dat ain't even the half of itWit moms come 2 neices, 2 nephews, 2 cousinsBaby got comfortable in my shitShowing off dust and trailings after they pissBitches, wild kids, jumping and playingBreak lamps, wasting food and leaving stainsMom laying in my lazy boyKids jamming tapes in my VCRFlipping my TV like a light switchGod can only stop me from killing this bitchI'm on the way back to my cribI pull up, "this can't be how I live"I jump out ready, to start fuckingI'm pissed off, mad and disgustedBitch tryna give me a excuseIt ain't nothing you can say or doYou ask the mind state, to do the badYou ain't said nothing bout cha whole famLook at my shit, it's fucked upAt least smell like a project cutYou ain't had the decency to clean upYou, ya ma, and children, can pack upPlease hurry before I go rawAnd mess around in here and catch a chargeYou don showed me, you ain't shitYou showed me, a bitch gon be a bitchLook what you don caused in my houseBefore you get pissed (the whip) get outHook:I've got problemsIn my fucking houseBitch would you pleaseGet the fuck out[Verse 2]Here's another fucked up episodeMy cousin came to visit from ChicagoI ain't saying since we was young bucksI turned thug, and he wannabe with the bustasSo why he down visiting, he staying wit meI put him under surveilence longer than a weekHe don't put 100% in his hygenesHe lied and stopped bout what he doing be in the streetzHe eating, he shitting, he sleeping, all for freeHe ain't cleaning behind his self, he think it's the double treeI'm almost to the point to ask himWhats happening? But I know, he get smart, I'ma slap himNow I gotta leave him by his self for the weekendI gotta fly to handle business in CleavelandI jet and this nigga go through my phone numbersCall em', tell him I got him a surprise party, come overSo happen that I'm finished a day earlyAnd decide to fly back home and check on this bitchI get down, fucked up my shit packed like a nightclubSofa's ripped, tape is broke and it's full of weed smokersNigga got it coming, every tooth in his mouthI'ma knock-out, I can't believe what he did to my houseHook:I've got problemsIn my fucking houseBitch would you pleaseGet the fuck out
DORSEY, CHRISTOPHER / DORSEY, CHRISTOPHER / WRITER UNKNOWN, N
© Ultra Tunes, Universal Music Publishing Group
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© Ultra Tunes, Universal Music Publishing Group
Letra powered by LyricFind