No Problems lyrics

by

Waka Flocka Flame


[Chorus: Rich Homie Quan]
Shooter holding my pistol as I switch lanes in that Audi
Tennis shoes my choices ain't sh*t changed but my bottom
Ain't sh*t lame 'bout my partners
Your b*tch came to my house to get f*cked by my roster
My team homie, Peewee put me on it, yeah
These n*ggas don't want no problems, yeah
I can see it in their eyes, the feeling's in my heart
Got me thinkin' through my mind
And I can't hide the feeling inside
I don't know how I feel like this but sh*t just got real like this

[Verse 1: Peewee Longway]
Rich Homie, this feeling, man it on vibe
And can't no suckers get in my ride
So I slowly let them Forgis glide
Now let that marinate while your b*tch get in my ride
She can't believe her eyes, the ghost came suicide
I'm trapping in Guisseppe, gotta make a play, bae let's ride
In traffic with goons behind me, my dawgs gon' spray them chromes
And if you got a problem, my god I'm 'fraid I'm drunk
Rich Homie where they do, it's your boy Longway
I count a lot of cash, my homies hold AKs
And if you try to pass, make sure you saying grace
My homies at your ass, aiming at your face
[Chorus: Rich Homie Quan]
I say my shooter holding my pistol as I switch lanes in that Audi
Tennis shoes my choices ain't sh*t changed but my bottom
Ain't sh*t lame bout my partners
Your b*tch came to my house to get f*cked by my roster
My team homie, Peewee put me on it, yeah
These n*ggas don't want no problems, yeah
I can see it in their eyes, the feeling's in my heart
Got me thinkin' through my mind
And I can't hide the feeling inside
I don't know how I feel like this but sh*t just got real like this

[Verse 2: Gucci Mane]
Yeah I don't put sixes on her, she should put fours on
I told her wear it just so I could f*ck her with her clothes on
50 b*tches hit my line in jail on my cellphone
[?]
n*ggas say he got the sticky icky purp velcro
Say he got a truck load, tell me what I don't know
n*ggas that I run with will rob Wells Fargo
Got a clip and a gun in every pocket of my cargo
Half a million dollar worth of bales in my condo
Frisco, oreo, n*gga not Nabisco
I'm in molly world, I done hurled on my girl and my shell toes
Snuck up in the club with a pint and a elbow
[Chorus: Rich Homie Quan]
I say my shooter holding my pistol as I switch lanes in that Audi
Tennis shoes my choices ain't sh*t changed but my bottom
Ain't sh*t lame bout my partners
Your b*tch came to my house to get f*cked by my roster
My team homie, Peewee put me on it, yeah
These n*ggas don't want no problems, yeah
I can see it in their eyes, the feelings [?] through my mind
And I can't hide the feeling inside
I don't know how I feel like this but sh*t just got real like this
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