lirik lagu trouble – likwuid
[verse 1: likwuid stylez]
this sweet n*gga make me sick
say your name on a song, you wanna freestyle and sh*t
i ain’t tryna rhyme, i’m tryna disconnect your spine
teach you a lesson like you’re a student at columbine
must have gotten confused
respect your elders
you might wanna hold your tongue until you know me better
or i hold it for you when they perform an autopsy
i suggest you think twice, i’ll change your mind like lobotomy
maybe he lost his mind, where your head at?
i bet you’re used to girls asking you, “where the head at?”
and it’s already in, you don’t want it with me, fam
you’re a b*tch, you should be rocking pink like cam
and your words sound good but that’s another dude’s life
you don’t even believe all the bullsh*t you write
this n*gga lived in a trailer park, say he from the hood
or the concrete jungle, no dirt roads in the woods
you’re a b*tch, don’t let your ego corrupt you
you probably like it in the ass, with this mic i’ll f*ck you
and i love hip*hop but i can rhyme at home
don’t make me come out the booth, put my fist through your dome, let’s get it on
[chorus]
oh no, here we go again
a n*gga think he hard, but i smell estrogen, d*mn
i’ma teach him a lesson in
there’s only so long fake thugs can pretend
breathe easy, you don’t really want that
when the flow blast off like b* b* b* b*
where your head at?
your chest is hollow, i know
where your heart at?
[verse 2: sacrifyce]
f*ck with the fam
you don’t want beef, you hungry for spam
studio thug, i leave you crippled right where you stand
hazardous land, i’m used to a walk in the park
i stomp you so you can see how i left my mark
best to start opposite direction running
streets is buzzing, n*ggas like, “the priest is coming”
backtrack, n*gga, watch your tone
you’re lucky when stylez jumped in the booth that the priest was gone
that’s the truth, n*gga, word is born, signed, sealed, delivered
i strike with force to k!ll you before you feel it
i’m telling you, dawg, i sn*tch your breath
not on the lyrical sh*t but swift blows to the chest, n*gga
i’m a mercenary soldier for higher
n*ggas get fired, get dropped before their rhymes retire
stylez, i’m wired, let ‘em know the boss is the truth
yeah, i forgot you left ‘em shook in the booth
[chorus]
oh no, here we go again
a n*gga think he hard, but i smell estrogen, d*mn
i’ma teach him a lesson in
there’s only so long fake thugs can pretend
breathe easy, you don’t really want that
when the flow blast off like b* b* b* b*
where your head at?
your chest is hollow, i know
where your heart at?
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