Royce Da 5'9" - Trouble lyrics

[Royce Da 5'9"] Uhh, yeah Royce 5-9, my n***a Bow Tie My n***a Cee, Six July Gangsta, what, gangsta, what, uhh Gangsta, n***az is gangsta Yo, I'm out here all day From when you hear the sounds of the car skidding Then start dickin, gangsta from start to the finish Whats up - never socialable, n***a we too disposable If I get close to you it's probably to dispose of you quicker Go 'head, try something live or die by these numbers I'd rather live paralyzed than to die running, 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 n***a rhyming 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 n***a breathin, ain't no n***a realer alive [Chorus 2X: Royce] Why'all n***az in trouble (in trouble) Why'all n***az in trouble (in trouble). Why'all n***az in trouble (in trouble) Why'all n***az in trouble, you don't want this [Bow Tie] It's the black Elmer Fudd, f** a mansion and a yacht I got a project buildin, weed runnin on the block (c'mon) A sweet tooth for chronic, sh** got me speakin in ebonics k**er 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 a** 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 chest I come, real street knowledge, boulevard trade school Paid dues, cause n***az 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 dumb-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 n***a?) Where we pimp hustle hard, bang it out for the weight Eyes wide, cause me and my n***az 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 d**h blastin black automatics You n***az 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 k**ers 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 sh** (gangsta sh**) [Chorus] [Outro] Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah Why'all n***az know it's trouble, why'knamsayin? I got my Detroit n***az I got my New York n***az I'm a Chi-Town n***a And it's goin down for the new millennium motherf**ers!