Westside Gunn - No Problems lyrics

[Westside Gunn - No Problems lyrics]

Yeah, yeah
Stand up, niggas (Stand up niggas)
It is what it is, man the mayor's back
Two chain Benny man (What up?)
It's your boy Superstar Carter
(Y'all know who I am) homicide Kannon (yeah)
Westside Gunn

I hear these broke niggas talkin' 'bout
How they on the grind
On the block with a bundle of dimes, listen
(Haha) in the trunk, I got a bundle of pies
I'm young and stuntastic like
Lovie in his prime (What up?)
Yeah, I'm well respected
But still I lug a nine
They don't violate often
But a nigga might try
Every now and then, but the nigga gotta die
Have his mom like Jada
Runnin' 'round, askin', "Why?"
Her oldest boy ain't here no more
He wasn't shit anyway
So it's only barely pour
But they pop bottles of Remy
When they hear this song
It's fair to say that everybody kinda
Glad now that the nigga gone
I'm a young cat, but you know I been a boss
So when the war's on
I ain't gotta get involved
All I do, give a call to the homies
Fill a car
Up with goons, ride out, and go kill his mom
Some of the guns are small but
All of the clips is long
You can relate if you on the
Type of shit I'm on
I'ma be a menace on the streets
'til I'm dead and gone i kill for nothing
You ain't even gotta piss me off

Yo, yo
Hoppin' gates with them ski masks on, relax
Born marvelous
Fresh, pickin' up bricks for Escobar
And yo, it's Westside
(Westside) , Fendi frames in the nighttime
Franck Muller
Swear to God that we're holding black nines
Smoke's famous in the crack spot
Standin' over some glass pots
Blew his brains out with the last shot
New Maserati cost mad guap
Black Champion hoods, we hood
Posted up with the ooh-wops
Yo, I'm never gon' change salam lord
Hop in the Range
Bulletproof whips because of the fame (Okay)
Ayo scrams, look at 'em glance up
50 grand, cocaine glance
Coppin' dollars, stashin' dope on the scene
Rock a Ralph Lauren peacoat, six Porsche
Keys on blow, flyest nigga you know
(Flyest nigga you know)
Ayo, that 7: 45 bangin', slangin'
Cuban stick in the motherfucker
Price hangin'
Nice, ain't it? Famous, gemstar raisin'
Choppin' the work, for half a mil'
Bartend the basement yo, Supreme, universal
Grew up to be a drug dealer's son
Shot the Mac off
Brightley with the Bentley wings
Real niggas do real things
Hoppin' out of Bimmers, fuckin' with kings
(Okay) westside Gunn's story
Just star me and the fiends
Made half a gram on the
Threw a piece to the lookout
I'm leavin' the block a G in the pot
Seizing keys from your spot
Squeezin' the Glock believe it or not
The K will have you bleedin' a lot
That new Rover I've been meanin' to cop
Flip words like work on the first search
The ghetto in the Black Phantom
See nice jewels at random, peep
Rock you to sleep

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