Trouble (Featuring Breeze Brewin)

You want to pop it stop it, do the obvious
Use your opulence it’s commonsense
Sitting on a winning ticket not cashing in now that’s insane
Ultra violent ultra violet see the rays through the purple haze
Maintain, Take Aim
Fight Demon’s rustling in the brain
Cause ain’t nothing to debate figure, figure
Other than how many figures you figure
You want to accumulate
So get your weight up not your hate up
Calisthenics and Calibers to go far
Get bigger, bigger
Thoughts to form as trigger
Trigger gambler to handle your broken English
Dismissing inklings of sinking the ship
Cause who’s a better navigator
For your paper accomplishments
Entrepreneur put in your all
No need to ball, ball out
Before you really balling, shouting, pouting in retro
Looking back on all you just let go
Could have acquired
Could have inspired including your seed breed pedigree
So you better be willing to weather the storm
In order to transform

Take that trouble by the horn, horn, get it yeah
Don’t let that trouble spawn kick you in your derrière
There’s a method to this madness, bad chick, ill dude
Trouble in twos when we come through

(Breeze Brewin)

It be the word before the T-Roy/World before the B-boys
It’s suckers that feel joy when others get destroyed
That trouble’s a bad bitch
Subtle and savage
See the waitress with a heaping plate
A brothers fucking ravaged
The holler from bloody pissing
Your wallet with money missing
Youtube with your boos boob and your buddy kissing
Shit is wild getting vile pushing you to spit and bile
Pedophile with a smile
Looking crooked at your child
Early it’s a call from school
Surely cause ya’ll was fools earlier when hearing ooooh!
Word putting fear in you
Image of the dark clouds
Lit up with sparks loud crack
And then the rumbling attack it’s pretty humbling
Later maybe lady say we gotta talk
Tomahawk
Such stress
Failure with any sort of blood test
Wheezing getting paler
As you squeezing that inhaler
But it’s seeming like there’s nothing left
Fiendin’ for a fucking breath, choking
Like if you learning you dead broke
When the fella doing the ponzi
Was hella cooler then Fonzi
Thinking that I’m the master of all, nothings beyond me
Thinking that the Rapture is only a song from Blondie, nah B

Take that trouble by the horn, horn, get it yeah
Don’t let that trouble spawn kick you in your derrière
There’s a method to this madness, bad chick, ill dude
Trouble in twos when we come through