Lyrics Issues - Grand Puba

Issues

How it go, oh oh oh oh, uh Oh, oh, oh, oh ya got issues
Oh, oh, oh, oh Oh, oh, oh, oh ya got issues
Now don’t cha’feel absolutely dead with no bread
Smoke head, eyes red, ready to fill that metal up with lead
The get cha’some, spit cha’dum dums and flip yums
Stuck in the slums cause all ya pockets got is bread crumbs
That’s when ya moms stops frontin'
You ain’t gon’lay around my house all day, doin’nothin'
Playin’Playstation, deuce deuce and hide ya bluntin'
Better get cha’ass up, get a job or do something
Close my door, I don’t wanna hear that shit tonight
She right, sleep all day, run all night
Tryin’to live nice in the gangsta’s paradise
Rock some ice, stack some chips, bounce our whips
The ghetto life might be a struggle
Life is one big puzzle, where Rotteweiler grill cats get muzzled
I know it be hard to do ya thing
When you livin’like a peasant but you feelin’like a king
Ain’t that the girl ya really love (Yeah)
But she play you like a scrub (Yeah)
She doin’mad shit to make ya bug (Yeah)
Every week she’s in the club (Yeah)
How it go, oh oh oh oh ya got issues
Oh oh oh oh Oh, oh, oh, oh Ya got issues oh, oh, oh oh You got some chicks that act brand new
Cause the got their nails done, a new outfit, some ice and a hairdo
They wanna play the club, stress a dude with the hottest car
That got Mo and Cristal lined up at the bar
Whether they entertainer or ghetto superstar
Not all chicks are like that but you know who you are
Actin’like Frank BaDoob be pimpin’you
She trickin’fuck it She wanna glass of champagne out the bucket
Here bird, I mean love then you take it home and pluck it Write it off, a business expense, tax deducted
Now you gased up like bean soup
Think you in the loop but you back in the chicken coup
In the biz I got trickin’recruit
Last time you seen him when he dropped you on ya stoop
The man don’t want chu’and the next man dissed you
Seems you got caught up in them everyday issues
If ya man is actin’foul (Yeah)
On them streets and runnin’wild (Yeah)
And he thinks he’s a playa till the end (Yeah)
Even fucked some of ya friends (Yeah)
How it go oh oh oh oh, ya got issues
Oh, oh, oh, oh Oh, oh, oh, oh ya got issues
Oh, oh, oh, oh And now ya got ballers then ya got ballin’pretenders
Who’s honeys kind of thunder but they like to hold within
Frontin’pullin’jiu knots outta places
Hand full of aces outlined with big faces
Spend ya last dime for a nice piece of shine
I know, I did it when my ass was runnin’blind
False advertisement, you wanna front for the chicks
Meanwhile ya seed need a pair of kicks
Gucci, Iceberg downed life is great B Cause I got shoes from Crocodile Dundee
Ya flossin’poppin’bottles like ya hit the lotto
Got chu’poppa livin’like you Ricky Ricardo
Got a lot of friends when ya got a lot of ends
A lot of friends pretend when they know ya trickin’ends
Ya girl tried to tell that these dudes be usin’you
But these be the issues that we all go through
Oh oh oh oh, ya got issues
Oh, oh, oh, oh Oh, oh, oh, oh ya got issues
Oh, oh, oh, oh Yeah… yeah…yeah