Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Problems, artist - Stalley. Album song Ohio, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хопDate of issue: 26.10.2014
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Maybach
Song language: English
Problems |
| A nigga got problems |
| Sittin' here, plottin' how to count a million dollars |
| I need houses and garages |
| Got baby mama drama, get my mama out the projects |
| Ain’t got too many options |
| So I’ma take one, double back and make a profit |
| I need houses and garages |
| Got baby mama drama, get my mama out the projects |
| I gotta get my mama out the projects |
| So it’s llamas in the projects |
| A nigga out here starving |
| This rap better work, I’m playing niggas in that garden |
| I came from that fridge with empty crates and milk cartons |
| Barely achin', walking with a 9 |
| Should I shoot him down or just rob a nigga blind |
| Only head shots, never catch him in his spine |
| That’s what my block taught me, it’s a kill every time |
| That’s just the mind of a kid trying to free his mom |
| Out that two bedroom with five kids |
| Malnourished, ribs touching, man this poverty a bitch |
| So we slanging dope, ducking pigs, posted with them sticks |
| Welcome to Ohio, where we hustle to live |
| So it’s factory work |
| Or we busting down and breaking if that ain’t gon' work |
| Then we run in your crib, cig smoking like Wiz |
| One move, bump bump, put two in your wig |
| Grandma pray for our sins, hoping God forgives |
| But today is pay day, and all this broke ish gon' end |
| I swear all this broke ish gon' end |
| My baby on her last Pamper |
| And her mama on my last nerve |
| And I just lost my sneaker gig |
| So you know it’s back to the curb |
| My cousin got a bird, said he front me quarter key |
| Told him, «gimme a week, I’ll be where I need to be» |
| Now I’m penitentiary chancing on the block with my G’s |
| Trying to clock G’s to feed my family |
| And I don’t wanna do it but I’m in a tight squeeze |
| Left hand full of stones, right hand got a tight squeeze |
| On this hammer case a nigga try me |
| Cops casing the block trying to lock me |
| It’s hard here, nightmares |
| ‘Cause I don’t want my kids to grow up here |
| But it feels like a trap, all I do is trap here |
| Everyday we hoping fences, dipping on twelve |
| It’s like we running track here |
| But I gotta get this pack clear |
| Survival is the key |
| Big ass crib with garages is the dream |
| Ba-balancing flows, to balancing triple beams |
| ‘Cause I ain’t never been a problem |
| But something’s gotta give |
| ‘Cause a nigga got problems |
| Blue collar, blue, blue collar |