Correction Lyrics Trouble (Live) by DJ Quik

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Lyrics

I'm not ya one hit wonder
And when you see me on the streets in a black Jeep
Know I got the heat up under
Not up under the seat, up under my cheek
Like so close to me that when I move it squeaks
I ain't no big buff dude, I'm a rap singer
I exercise one muscle, that's my strap finger
And I can't call it how I see it no more
'Cause these n***as'll take your words back and twist 'em like a pretzel
And these b*t*hes be the same, too
Comin' with that sob story, crocodile tеars tryin' to game you
And that's exactly what the gamе do
And if you ever get caught dirty with a homie, she gon' blame you
So what in the hell you wanna floss her for?
It's supposed to be 'bout what a baller n***a cost that ho, yes
You givin' a game of black eye in your S5
While you n***as kick back poppin' E, you let that b*t*h drive
And that b*t*h supposed to carry her own car note
And don't be going for that sh*t "I got a sore throat"
Give that b*t*h a couple of Sucrets
Or give that that ho that application down on Vernon to that duplex
Formula, come on

When I bubble, it's trouble
n***as gettin' big money on the double
Fast lane, champagne, rubber to burn
Gettin' rich, b*t*h, is the only concern
When I bubble, it's trouble
n***as gettin' big money on the double
Fast lane, champagne, rubber to burn
Gettin' rich, b*t*h, is the only concern
It's the only concern

I'm the bomb, b*t*h...
'Cause pimpin'll have you see me with a bad ass ho
Legendary my name
Secondary you came
And you won't see me stop making hits 'til I walk with a cane
Yep, I'm still 5'11", 6 feet with shoes
Compton, OG n***a givin' n***as the blues
Etched in stone, makin' yo b*t*h fetch the bone
I'm calling the cops, punk motherf**kers, catch the phone
Nightstick, security, and all of the above
Put it up in yo' ass 'til we all see blood
Well, f**k it, I'm a cop, too (what?)
I'm a cop me a kilo of yay
And try to get it crackin' like it's '82
With Monte Carlos and European furs
Cop them El Co's on that gold lace
Dippin' round the whole place
f**k a six-pack, stupid, cop the whole case
And when them n***as come, stupid, crack they whole face
The way my Glock c*ck keep a n***a spoiled
Got him spittin' like that pitcher from the KC Royals
Socked the P.D., haters R.I.P
Very sincerely yours, Quik, n***a, peace

'Cause when I bubble, it's trouble
n***as gettin' big money on the double (What?)
Fast lane, champagne, rubber to burn (What we doin'?)
Gettin' rich, b*t*h, is the only concern
When I bubble, it's trouble
n***as gettin' big money on the double
Fast lane, champagne, rubber to burn
Gettin' rich, b*t*h, is the only concern
It's the only concern

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