Letras Think We Got A Problem - Sheek Louch, Bun B, The Game

Think We Got A Problem

I think we got a problem, got a got a problem\nI think we got a problem, got a got a problem\nI think we got a problem, got a got a problem\nThink we got a problem, think we got a problem\nThink we got a problem, mask on, show you how to rob 'em\nRevolver, show you how to solve’m\nDrivin' down Harlem, the Aston a problem\nNo tint fishbowl it ain’t hard to spot him\nThink we got a problem, weed got too much\nOnly thing damn I’m down to my last dutch\nThink we got a problem, but really it ain’t dough\nThere’s one of me, and these bitches I count about three four\nThink we got a problem, the homey just all talk\nHe ain’t gon' pop a balloon with a pitch fork\nThink we got a problem in the club with this dogg\nRude boy, starks, ladies, everybody\nThink we got a problem, Game in Manhattan\nBlack on black Aston, the 21 strapped in\nDominican chick ridin' shotty all strapped in\nCustomize the dash on my shotgun strapped in\nCops on the shoulder gotta pull a Hova\nTime to fade to black cause I ain’t pullin' ova\nThe engine is a problem, that ain’t no question\nPop the trunk see the speakers kickin' like Beckham\nThink we got a problem, Sheek know I’m hot\nKiss and Styles should make me a member of the Lox\nI take all the beats, I remember how to box\nIf I ever get knocked out, I remember how to pop\nRemember how to load everything inside my glock\nAsk the niggas in the hood 'cause they remember who I shot\nThink we got a problem, I snitched on myself\nAnd I hate rats so I dugg a ditch for myself, what\nWell it’s the king of the trill Bun B’der you know the name\nAnd the streets is like the NBA, I love this game\nKeep a bottle of Henessey, a blunt and that purp\nWith my hand up on my heater, and my killaz on churp\nYou see me one deep in the spot, think I’m slippin', try ya luck\n'Cause I got sixteen homeys with me, that stay ready to buck\nYou can duck dodge or dive, but it won’t do diddley squat\nBut leave ya with a leaky liver and both ya kidneys shot\nBut you may not pimpin' I ain’t fin to ask for it\nMy money, my hood or my respect, I’m a blast for it\nYou can’t push fast forward, rewind or pause\nI’m a beat you till you shittin' ya draws, so call the laws cause