DJ Quik — Trouble Live

[Verse 1] 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 niggas'll take your words back and twist 'em like a pretzel And these bitches 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 nigga cost that ho, yes You givin' a game of black eye in your S5 While you niggas kick back poppin' E, you let that bitch drive And that bitch supposed to carry her own car note And don't be going for that shit "I got a sore throat" Give that bitch a couple of Sucrets Or give that that ho that application down on Vernon to that duplex Formula, come on [Chorus] When I bubble, it's trouble Niggas gettin' big money on the double Fast lane, champagne, rubber to burn Gettin' rich, bitch, is the only concern When I bubble, it's trouble Niggas gettin' big money on the double Fast lane, champagne, rubber to burn Gettin' rich, bitch, is the only concern It's the only concern [Verse 2] I'm the bomb, bitch... '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 nigga givin' niggas the blues Etched in stone, makin' yo bitch fetch the bone I'm calling the cops, punk motherfuckers, catch the phone Nightstick, security, and all of the above Put it up in yo' ass 'til we all see blood Well, fuck 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 Fuck a six-pack, stupid, cop the whole case And when them niggas come, stupid, crack they whole face The way my Glock cock keep a nigga spoiled Got him spittin' like that pitcher from the KC Royals Socked the P.D., haters R.I.P Very sincerely yours, Quik, nigga, peace [Chorus] 'Cause when I bubble, it's trouble Niggas gettin' big money on the double (What?) Fast lane, champagne, rubber to burn (What we doin'?) Gettin' rich, bitch, is the only concern When I bubble, it's trouble Niggas gettin' big money on the double Fast lane, champagne, rubber to burn Gettin' rich, bitch, is the only concern It's the only concern