Emilio Rojas, N.O.R.E. - Trouble lyrics
[Emilio Rojas, N.O.R.E. - Trouble lyrics]
Yeah, I be where the papis be
Caking off of poppy seed
167th, baby, I got the whole block with me
I’m where the poverty created an economy
And everybody selling souls
Now the Devil on a shopping spree
All my people going in and out of jail
I’m the lucky one
I ain’t never had no drugs to sell
I just want the type of paper that
You count it with a scale
So if they get indicted
I could be there with the bail
Everybody think they real but
Ain’t nobody realistic
All my people doing numbers
Trying not to be statistics
Yeah, ‘cause we don’t wanna see no prisons
But we out there on the strip ‘cause
We don’t wanna lease no Civics, no
Nah, they don’t wanna see
Latins with investments
Nah, but I been living like a legend though
Yeah, you be the one with all the answers
I’mma be the one they never
Get to question though
It could go down
Ain’t nothing but trouble around here
Ain’t nothing but trouble around here
It could go down
Ain’t nothing but trouble around here
Ain’t nothing but trouble around here
It could go down
The city so cold I could see my breath
The city so cold I could see my breath
The city so cold I could see my breath
The city so cold I could see my breath
Yo, the new Hector Lavoe
You should respect me
Them killers all around me gonna protect me
And the condo is two floors
Sports car, fly shit, two doors
All I need is two slores and
I’mma use they two jaws
Catch me out in the Bronx
Where the choppers at
Harlem Sunday, wear the proper hat
Queens where they sell it and they
Use it and they choppin’ that
And niggas getting murdered
That’s on top of that
Yeah, I fuck her on her tip toes, West Coast
Guns out in France, yeah that’s French Toast
Been ghost, yeah
Told them niggas been there and done that
‘Cause I think they can run that
‘cause all that bread come back
New York left rack, quarterback, running back
Tell them bring the quarter back
I just keep the number flat
My posse still on Broadway, in East Wick
We do it by raw way we do this shit all day
Get them niggas’ head in they hall way
It could go down
Ain’t nothing but trouble around here
Ain’t nothing but trouble around here
It could go down
Ain’t nothing but trouble around here
Ain’t nothing but trouble around here
It could go down
The city so cold I could see my breath
The city so cold I could see my breath
The city so cold I could see my breath
The city so cold I could see my breath
Caking off of poppy seed
167th, baby, I got the whole block with me
I’m where the poverty created an economy
And everybody selling souls
Now the Devil on a shopping spree
All my people going in and out of jail
I’m the lucky one
I ain’t never had no drugs to sell
I just want the type of paper that
You count it with a scale
So if they get indicted
I could be there with the bail
Everybody think they real but
Ain’t nobody realistic
All my people doing numbers
Trying not to be statistics
Yeah, ‘cause we don’t wanna see no prisons
But we out there on the strip ‘cause
We don’t wanna lease no Civics, no
Nah, they don’t wanna see
Latins with investments
Nah, but I been living like a legend though
Yeah, you be the one with all the answers
I’mma be the one they never
Get to question though
It could go down
Ain’t nothing but trouble around here
Ain’t nothing but trouble around here
It could go down
Ain’t nothing but trouble around here
Ain’t nothing but trouble around here
It could go down
The city so cold I could see my breath
The city so cold I could see my breath
The city so cold I could see my breath
The city so cold I could see my breath
Yo, the new Hector Lavoe
You should respect me
Them killers all around me gonna protect me
And the condo is two floors
Sports car, fly shit, two doors
All I need is two slores and
I’mma use they two jaws
Catch me out in the Bronx
Where the choppers at
Harlem Sunday, wear the proper hat
Queens where they sell it and they
Use it and they choppin’ that
And niggas getting murdered
That’s on top of that
Yeah, I fuck her on her tip toes, West Coast
Guns out in France, yeah that’s French Toast
Been ghost, yeah
Told them niggas been there and done that
‘Cause I think they can run that
‘cause all that bread come back
New York left rack, quarterback, running back
Tell them bring the quarter back
I just keep the number flat
My posse still on Broadway, in East Wick
We do it by raw way we do this shit all day
Get them niggas’ head in they hall way
It could go down
Ain’t nothing but trouble around here
Ain’t nothing but trouble around here
It could go down
Ain’t nothing but trouble around here
Ain’t nothing but trouble around here
It could go down
The city so cold I could see my breath
The city so cold I could see my breath
The city so cold I could see my breath
The city so cold I could see my breath