Twista

Twista - Trouble lyrics

I, want, my, dough

Or it's gon' be trouble, somebody let them niggaz know

I, want, my, dough

Or it's gon' be trouble, somebody let them niggaz know

I, want, my, dough

Or it's gon' be trouble, somebody let them niggaz know

I, want, my, dough

Or it's gon' be some trouble

Oh ain't no playin me, it's Twista

I gots to get mine, ya dig?

I need a stove and a pot from you, oh I need a jar from you

I'm 'bout to cook up somethin horrible

I make a big chunk and I chop it down to particles

and sell a part to you, get this money is what I'ma do, ooh

A tall dawg call me momma-do ooh, from sellin nuggets to your momma duke

Now I got money out the follicles

Try to stop me I'ma put your name up in the article

I turn a giant to a molecule

Peon and pussy were the man's parents

I see straight through you like you transparent

You ain't capo, you run your man's errands

Low on the totem pole, but me I hold the do'

I'm never freezin below zero, I can't go below a O

So now I got digits, got critics - fuck 'em

I got bitches that come back wit it, bust you in yo' cap fitted

You niggaz ain't know I was that siddick

The chain flick up, peep the (Chronicles) of Twista nigga, fuck Riddick

I, want, my, dough

Or it's gon' be trouble, somebody let them niggaz know

I, want, my, dough

Or it's gon' be trouble, somebody let them niggaz know

I, want, my, dough

Or it's gon' be trouble, somebody let them niggaz know

I, want, my, dough

Or it's gon' be some trouble, somebody let them niggaz know

Uh-huh I rap scary, make A&R's get on they Blackberry

Type in to they boss that every track heavy

If rappers was reverends I'm that Jesse

Or comedians then I'm that Eddie, football I'm that Jerry

You could count on me when you throw the (Rice)

Married to the mob so throw the rice, you are just a prototype

Son of the devil call him Dolomite

I'm on another level but you wrote 'em, right?

You fiend for that 'dro to write

He ain't nothin I'm made, it's swift out the cuts when I daze him

Give him cuts and abrasions cause I'm too fuckin amazin

Huff don't get you paid and I'm makin big bucks off of haze and

My dope gon' keep on comin back like you fuckin with Jason

Vorhees, more ki's, get killed for the pies

They yours to serve but the hills have eyes - I'm watchin you

You should be through my money, huh?

Well when I come through have that money up

and I don't even wanna hear no funny stuff, hurry up

Buck buck, my guns fire horror

A lil' money you better wire momma because I am diaboli-cal

To your life I say sayanora

Better call God or hire Allah, cause nigga I am lava

Flow out the volcano to burn the village

These cooking utensils ain't given to you boy you gotta earn the skillet

When it come to a cap you gotta learn to peel it

When it come to a track you gotta learn to feel it

when it's your turn to kill it

Musical masturbation I'm feelin myself, I'm deadly and mannish

But I still'll leave you and your buddy damaged

Freakin on the tracks so nasty that you can't understand it

'Til you see me sippin dollars and eatin a money sandwich

And the new Jag be lookin so splendid

But I can't re-cop it 'til you get finished - it's been three days nigga

Give me mine, you know I gots to get paid nigga

Don't you know the consequences of fuckin with a made nigga?

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