Shyheim - In Trouble lyrics

In Trouble x8 yeah, yeah, word, what?
That's my word, Allah
Get me out of this one (please,)
I'll never do it again (for real)
Word, somebody help me (I swear, Allah)
Please make everything be okay
I'm in a well, I can't get out
I'm trapped, for real
When you're down in trouble i'm tellin' you
Nobody gon' be there for you
And you need some love and care
Come on, You gonna be all alone, son!
I'm tellin' you, you better listen to me
(I'm your son, Allah) that's my word
Listen son, listen yo yo yo yo
For real, yo, yo, yo for real, yo, yo, yo
I'ma keep it real, yo, yo, yo
I'ma keep it real

Three-to-six facin', new indictment
Plus violation of probation
I had to do the boogie oogie
Absent from court, like class
I played hookey
The pressure's on, tippy tippy
I'm on my toes fuck risin' to the occasion
The temperature been rose
Set it off like intros
Blast you and your kin folks
A trouble maker, bitch taker, a Scorpio
Naughty by Nature, my Unit brings the Flavor
We cake up like make up, and in New York
Fuck the daily news, Shyheim
I made the paper
Want a anchor and a yacht, drop-top
Three-and-a-quarter my mother said
"People in Hell want ice water"
It'll be a manslaughter, private-eye
That's an order
I know where them cowards be standin'
On the corner
Send Cain a money order, one love cousin
I thought it was when it wasn't
The dust had me buggin'

Pssh word up son
When you down, they scatter like roaches
They be scared to death to
Pull them burners out them holsters
Yo, word to my mother
I think they eat Hostess! For real, son
But y'all I'ma bring it like, yo

Yo, yo, yo
How the fuck y'all was thinkin'? Shyheim
Abe Lincoln
So what you ain't hear me on the Clan album
Featurin'
It's best I'm kept secretive like Masonry
Wanna hold me in captive in
Babylon like Julias Maccabees
That's blasphemy, Shaolin'll blast for me
I eat niggas like plates, from Applebee's
Wu Tang Killa Bees, we cause casualties
Collect annual fees
From y'all pussy-ass niggas
Who album should've come with a piece
Of gum and a tattoo sticker
A lot of my niggas
They've returned to the Earth
And in front of their hearse
I kick the same verse
Cuz everythin' the pastor said was
Fake and it hurt

That's my word
Niggas don't be there (for real)
When you gone (Word bond) all you get is
A five - five minute conversation
Word, they like, "Yo, remember him?"
For real, "Remember them?" word up, son, man
Probably won't even get no
Flowers on your tombstone
I'm tellin' you, knowin' who is your homies
Niggas'll be stingy that you hang with
Uh, uh, uh

When I was ten years old
I realized that with an O
I could flip that and bring
Back a brick in coke
Never took a short, never took a snort
Caught a warrant in New York
For not appearin' in court
But, I'll still survive
Some of my closest homies died
Murdered in homicides
I just couldn't let it slide
Fuck money, jewelry and bein' a rap star
I hopped out shootin'
Soon as my bitch stopped the car
Shyheim with the scar did it
That's what everybody said on
My trial minutes
They thought I was finished
But then I got acquitted
And popped niggas in their eye
For the fuckin' spinach not for Olive Oyl

Yea, word, for real
(Never Spoiled) To all my real peoples
Graduated, on the real
From the School of Hard Knocks (One Love)
(One thug to the last slug)
To all my niggas, bein' out for the law
(People that come and diss
You) official Outlawz
(Forms of snakes and all that)
And all my niggas
(suck a dick 'til you hiccup)
Keepin it Gully, keepin' it bloody
Keepin' it real, Shyheim
To my whole family, Shy feel you
We down, but we on the rise, son!
I'm tellin' y'all for real (it's on, nigga)
Yea, twenty-seven (roll wit the punches)
Wu Tang (or get punched, mothafucka)
Shaolin, Staten Island