Letra Problems T.I.

Problems

Featuring: B.o.B, Mac Boney, Problem & Trae Tha Truth

[Intro]
F*ck y'all n*gga want with a n*gga like me man
Eat you n*gga for dinner
I'm all on 'er partner

[Hook: Mac Boney]
Don't get it f*cked up
Don't get it f*cked up
You know you don't want these problems
N*gga, you know you don't want these problems
N*gga, don't get it f*cked up
N*gga, don't get it f*cked up
You know you don't want these problems
N*gga, you know you don't want these problems

[Verse 1: T.I.]
I guess you would know, oh you f*ck how
Steady talkin', 'till 5 b*tch you ain't gon' board though
I'm a gangsta b*tch, we aimin' like you ain't tonight
I ain't ridin' with that 5, shawty show you're right
Me slip like pow
On the low betweener, I'm strapped right now
Yea, favorite case, ain't nothing to me
I'm a head K, know that when you're runnin' to me
Get money, every G you make it like 100 to me
I'm fresh out for some these n*ggas, they big dummies to me
Okay? Now get some paper if you wanna play
Have yo head in my hallway for 100K

[Verse 2: B.O.B]
It's funny how n*ggas get high when they get on stage with a mic
You know I see 'em bitin' the style cool, they still can't deliver it right
I've been killin' this sh*t for so long, I don't remember the height
What's that like? They ain't really bout that life, they ain't really bout that life
No lie on this mic, chillin' with habitual whores
Hit 'er with the hammer like Thor
This ain't no boy, this a G4 ho, act like you been here before
Open up the suicide doors, like a Joe cut the window at the 25th floor
Ready for war, I came out the womb with a sword, cut my umbilical chord
See I'm headin' where you ain't never been
We are not the same and that's evident
I make flexin' just look so effortless
Get that salary 'til I'm hella back
See these hoes, these hoes ain't celibate
And they ain't hesitant, not at all
For a n*gga with a proper draw, she give me that box like a post office doctor though

[Bridge: T.I.]
If you know it as you don't
N*gga, this ain't what you want
Keep on playin' with me hatin' and you ain't gon make it home
If you know it as you don't
N*gga, this ain't what you want
Keep on playin with me hatin and you ain't gon make it home
Because I want the prison out I put the pistol to yo dome

[Hook: Mac Boney]
Don't get it f*cked up
Don't get it f*cked up
You know you don't want these problems
N*gga, you know you don't want these problems
N*gga, don't get it f*cked up
N*gga, don't get it f*cked up
You know you don't want these problems
N*gga, you know you don't want these problems

[Verse 3: Problem]
NO tiv, I got these hoes
Live it way, got a sake pose
Covered it like wear ladies flows
New York b*tch, real lady clothes
Put 'em all now, real n*gga act
Better put it now,
You better go for the Oscars
Cause impostors will get whack n*ggas that's mobsters
That ain't playing that
N*ggas wanna sleep, I lay 'em down
Shine it, you see the way around, no recess in this circle
We don't play around
With my zig-zags I J down this motherf*cker real quick
Cause life be her b*tch
Well I'm gon' serve hers big dick
Boy this Compton, driving lane,
Me and y'all, it's bout the same
Same n*gga without the game
Keep sh*ttin', it ain't potty trained
Big bucks like a Shawty bang, bad boy with that naughty chain
Big stripes like referees but home boy this is not a game
So… break bread with the real bruh
Make sure you live life 'til it kill ya
Drop another molly in my Tequila
To my life in my dreams, La Familia

[Verse 4: Trae Tha Truth]
Off the drama and I'm back n*gga
Still a king and that's a fact n*gga
F*ck talkin', I'm that n*gga
That's one deep, no pact n*gga
Bad boy, no act n*gga
No internet, but I'm at n*ggas
New McLaren, all black n*gga
That's front sealed up like Shaq n*gga
In the game but don't play round
Try this sh*t with me – you get laid down
I stick and move, I don't stay round
Make the hardest n*gga turn greyhound
I don't talk the talk, I just run sh*t
How you think you're me but ain't the sh*t
Could go bananas on some sh*t
I keep a team on that dumb sh*t
I keep a strap that just might clap
Money low and I might trap
Yea I'm on it, f*ck my opponent
He run up on me, I might snap
Got me feelin' like f*ck 'em
I'm face to face, I don't duck 'em
My heat n*gga, I don't tuck 'em
I don't body bag 'em, I stuff 'em
With hot sh*t, hot sh*t
Yea I'm talkin' 'bout hot sh*t
With heavy letters I write sh*t
To showin' 'bout you not sh*t
I go for real, just ask tip
I green light my clique trips
Six n*ggas hoppin' out one whip
Go there re-constructin' your whole whip

[Hook: Mac Boney]
Don't get it f*cked up
Don't get it f*cked up
You know you don't want these problems
N*gga, you know you don't want these problems
N*gga, don't get it f*cked up
N*gga, don't get it f*cked up
You know you don't want these problems
N*gga, you know you don't want these problems