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Royce Da 5'9 - Trouble lyrics
[Royce Da 5'9"]
 Uhh, yeah
 Royce 5-9, my nigga Bow Tie
 My nigga Cee, Six July
 Gangsta, what, gangsta, what, uhh
 Gangsta, niggaz is gangsta
 Yo, I'm out here all day
 From when you hear the sounds of the car skiddin
 Then start dickin, gangsta from start to the finish
 Whassup - never socialable, nigga we too disposable
 If I get close to you it's probably to dispose of you quicker
 Go 'head, try somethin - live or die by these numbers
 I'd rather live paralyzed than to die runnin, you feel it
 Stay out his path, he's chaotic and mad
 Pull a K out and blast, and treat every day like his last
 I'm just a street nigga rhymin some words
 Dabble in the finest of furs, cowboy minus the spurs and saddle
 Prefer for battle; most deserved
 in highest level in cowboy status is not from herdin cattle
 One strange guy, I'm - nuttin like you mayn
 Guns all look the same to the un-trained eye
 Easy to find, tell me how a gorilla can hide
 The realest nigga breathin, ain't no nigga realer alive
 [Chorus 2X: Royce]
 Y'all niggaz in trouble (in trouble)
 Y'all niggaz in trouble (in trouble).
 Y'all niggaz in trouble (in trouble)
 Y'all niggaz in trouble, you don't want this
 [Bow Tie]
 It's the black Elmer Fudd, fuck a mansion and a yacht
 I got a project buildin, weed runnin on the block (c'mon)
 A sweet tooth for chronic, shit got me speakin in ebonics
 Killer cracker, respect me for my talent
 Sniff 'em out like a bloodhound
 Like they bag mills out in Vegas on the Greyhound
 I never plead guilty, come to court filthy
 Lawyer drunk off Henny, parole violators with me
 And still I walk cause it's real
 Take they ass to trial then they lose a quarter mil', now that's a deal
 Filthy rich at his best
 Love hell I write, with a 7 on my chestRoyce Da 5'9 - Trouble - http://motolyrics.com/royce-da-59/trouble-lyrics.html
 I come, real street knowledge, boulevard trade school
 Paid dues, cause niggaz know I honor the rules
 Left no clues, X found, case is closed
 While you go against the grain, with a plane of fo's
 Take that slang to go, with the rubber handle steel
 Spit dum-dums at labels, with a 50-50 deal
 Explode to your guts, that part left hollow
 Show the world your nuts, I'm the hoodlum role model
 To all the competition that'll follow
 Just remember damage to the 99th power
 No one knows the hour, that the Bow will strike
 Took the sword from Hitler, that they stuck in Christ
 Now who's nice? .. Now who's nice?
[Chorus]
 [Cee]
 Yo, you see the press is too hot (uh-huh) when you rush my flows
 I got, three for twenty-five, rhymes flip like blows
 What you never heard this voice, it's big Cee from the state
 (where you from nigga?) Where we pimp hustle hard, bang it out for the weight
 Eyes wide, cause me and my niggaz organize crime
 You either get it in the streets, or runnin from the jail lines
 My game's at command, I show the world my status
 It's filthy to the death blastin black automatics
 You niggaz talk pain, he will catch these shells
 Twenty-three hours on lockdown, one out your cell
 I know it sounds sick, when you deal in this form
 My city, the home where the killers is born
 Close capture, East and West, now that you have to
 leave a little room for this Midwest rapture
 And there's no endin, to the words I spit
 I sacrifice my soul for this filthy rich shit (gangsta shit)
[Chorus]
 [Outro]
 Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
 Y'all niggaz know it's trouble, y'knamsayin?
 I got my Detroit niggaz
 I got my New York niggaz
 I'm a Chi-Town nigga
 And it's goin down for the new millenium motherfuckers!








