Shyheim - In Trouble lyrics

[Intro: Shyheim] {In Trouble x8} Yeah, yeah, word, what? That's my word, Allah Get me out of this one (please!) I'll never do it again (for real) Word, somebody help me (I swear, Allah) Please make everything be okay I'm in a well, I can't get out I'm trapped, for real {When you're down.. in trouble} I'm tellin' you Nobody gon' be there for you {And you need some love and care} Come on, You gonna be all alone, son! I'm tellin' you, you better listen to me (I'm your son, Allah!) That's my word Listen son, listen Yo yo yo yo For real, yo, yo, yo For real, yo, yo, yo I'ma keep it real, yo, yo, yo I'ma keep it real [Shyheim] Three-to-six facin', new indictment Plus violation of probation, I had to do the boogie oogie Absent from court, like cla**, I played hookey The pressure's on, tippy tippy, I'm on my toes f** risin' to the occasion, the temperature been rose Set it off like intros, blast you and your kin folks A trouble maker, b**h taker, a Scorpio Naughty by Nature, my Unit brings the Flavor We cake up like make up, and in New York f** the daily news, Shyheim, I made the paper Want a anchor and a yacht, drop-top, three-and-a-quarter My mother said, "People in Hell want ice water" It'll be a manslaughter, private-eye, that's an order I know where them cowards be standin', on the corner Send Cain a money order, one love cousin I thought it was when it wasn't, the dust had me Buggin' [Break: Shyheim] Pssh.. word up son When you down, they scatter like roaches They be scared to d**h to pull them burners out them Holsters Yo, word to my mother, I think they eat Hostess! For real, son But y'all I'ma bring it like, yo.. [Shyheim] Yo, yo, yo How the f** y'all was thinkin'? Shyheim/Abe Lincoln So what you ain't hear me on the Clan album, featurin' It's best I'm kept secretive like Masonry Wanna hold me in captive in Babylon like Julias Maccabees That's blasphemy, Shaolin'll blast for me I eat n***as like plates, from Applebee's Wu-Tang k**a Bees, we cause casualties Collect annual fees, from y'all p**y-a** n***as Who album should've come with a piece of gum and a tattoo sticker A lot of my n***as, they've returned to the Earth And in front of their hearse, I kick the same verse Cuz everythin' the pastor said was fake and it hurt [Break: Shyheim] That's my word n***as don't be there (for real) (Word bond) all you get is a five-- five minute Conversation Word, they like, "Yo, remember him?" For real, "Remember them?" Word up, son, man Probably won't even get no flowers on your tombstone I'm tellin' you, knowin' who is your homies n***as'll be stingy that you hang with Uh, uh, uh.. [Shyheim] When I was ten years old, I realized that with an O I could flip that and bring back a brick in coke Never took a short, never took a snort Caught a warrant in New York for not appearin' in court But I'll still survive, some of my closest homies died Murdered in homicides, I just couldn't let it slide f** money, j**elry and bein' a rap star I hoped out shootin', soon as my b**h stopped the car Shyheim with the scar did it That's what everybody said on my trial minutes They thought I was finished, but then I got acquitted And popped n***as in their eye for the f**in' spinach Not for Olive Oyl [Outro: Shyheim] Yea, word, for real (Never Spoiled) To all my real peoples... Graduated, on the real, from the School of Hard Knocks (One Love) (One thug to the last slug) To all my n***as, bein' out for the law (People that come and diss you) official Outlawz (Forms of snakes and all that) And all my n***as (s** a dick 'til you hiccup) Keepin it Gully, keepin' it bloody Keepin' it real, Shyheim To my whole family, Shy feel you We down, but we on the rise, son! I'm tellin' y'all For real (it's on, n***a) Yea, twenty-seven (roll wit the punches...) Wu-Tang (or get punched, mothaf**a!) Shaolin, Staten Island