Kanye West — Looking for Trouble

[Intro: Pusha T & Kanye West] Re-Up Gang Pusha Música bubble Not looking for trouble Looking for trouble, trouble, trouble But you found it, motherfucker Some shekels fe I shenks Yes! Just a burn up de lamb’s bread [Verse 1: Pusha T] All I see is black roses, drug dealer poses Shoveling that devil’s angel up they noses Never let jail turn my Shyne into Moses Couldn’t cleanse my soul with them Civil Rights hoses Panoramic roof, under glass like a coaster Backseat driver, racial slurs at the chauffeur Kélian loafers, Mikimoto chokes her Photo-op is priceless, frame our wanted posters The audacity, war brings casualty Bitch, have my son before I face that tragedy Ugh, I order hits, she orders mahi R.I.P. Vivian Blake, shout out the Shower Posse, gone! [Interlude: Kanye West] Música bubble Not looking for trouble Looking for trouble, trouble, trouble But you found it, motherfucker Some shekels fe I shenks Yeah, yeah Just a burn up de lamb’s bread [Verse 2: Kanye West] I miss the misogyny, bad bitches massagin' me Sometimes, we lowered our standards at the colleges So please don’t judge me, ugh, for the following: Fat bitches swallowing, skinny bitches modeling Take off that Givenchy and let’s get raunchy I'll have your face looking all Captain Crunch-y The devil stay testing 'Cause when you chase the pussy, it’s a sin But if it falls in your lap, it’s a blessin' Soon as I got salad, I spent it all on dressing French, to be exact, that Balmain was impressive Hedi Slimane leathers... [Interlude: CyHi the Prynce] CyHi! Yeah! [Verse 3: CyHi the Prynce] Boy, we lookin’ for trouble Maybe if we wasn’t Black, then we wouldn’t have struggled Player, all I got is trap niggas and crooks in my huddle They cook and I smuggle, got 20 pounds of kush in the duffle So I’m running through them circles, boy, I’m lookin like Knuckles Look at my knuckles, got the hook in, ’cause niggas was looking I’ve tooken some whoopings, so trust me, dog, I’m good for a scuffle Don’t be mad I whooped your ass 'cause I’ve tooken a couple Feds asking niggas questions, but I wouldn’t rebuttal 'Cause I’m Jake Gyllenhaal, I’m in the hood with the bubble With a tall model broad like I took her from Russell Didn’t play the cards I was dealt, I made the dealer re-shuffle Huh, royal flush, so kiss my royal nuts Ain’t nothing silver-spooned, I came from the soil, bruh But now, I’m eatin’ off of Raffaello Gold Exquisite ravioli with some happy yellow hoes But don’t get it confused when I rap these mellow flows 'Cause all my Titos got bricks like the yellow road [Interlude: Big Sean & Kanye West] G.O.O.D.! I do it Música bubble Not looking for trouble B-I-G, Sean Don, nigga Looking for trouble, trouble, trouble But you found it, motherfucker Some shekels fe I shenks Bitch! I'm in... Just a burn up de lamb’s bread [Verse 4: Big Sean] ... That no-smoke sec', rolling motherfucking ounces Marijuana mountains, drinks you’re not pronouncing Three chains on, I don’t need no bouncers Nothing less than a G stashed in my trousers (Boy) New double Ds smashed in her blouses Fuck a hotel, my nigga we rent houses (Houses) My nigga, we rent houses So many wedding rings lost in them couches I’m just a Westside lover I leave females in my sheets and all my feelings in a rubber This is showtime, showtime, boy, I hope you set the DVR Stacking money face to face, this shit look like CPR ‘Ye invited me a seat to sit at the throne So now I’m snappin’ like yo ass just finished the poem Does he sound like 'Ye, Jay or Drizzy Drake? (Drizzy Drake) Meanwhile I’m chillin’ with all these niggas, counting all this money you ain’t Consider yourself lucky to see a legend before the prime A killer before the crime, a B.I.G. before the dying Greet me with a middle finger when you see me It’s cool 'cause I can’t see yo ass from this side of the TV, motherfucker! [Verse 5: J. Cole] Hey, Cole World, make way for the chosen one What you now hear is puttin’ fear in all the older ones Downplayed me to downgrade me like they don’t notice him Your shoes too big to fill? I can barely squeeze my toes in ‘em Fucking hoes while teachin' niggas to hold your sons This the rap Moses—scratch that, Mary and Joseph’s son High as fuck with a cold flow and a loaded gun Never say I’m better than Hov, but I’m the closest one Heard you lookin’ for trouble, what, I’m 'sposed to run? Your bitch invited me inside her, ain’t I 'sposed to come? Got niggas that’ll blow your tee off, put a hole in one Now you outside of Heaven’s gate, frontin’ like you know someone Talking hard, but y’all still ain’t push me They say you are what you eat, and I still ain’t pussy Hmm, fuck it, everybody can get it When you’re this hot, everybody’s a critic But when you’re this high, everybody’s a midget All this mean-mugging from niggas that mean nothing Could it be my position is one that you dreamed of? Went from quarter to broke to half-past-rich With my badass bitch And you don’t want no problems, on some math class shit So check the young genius out Fuck the world, bust a nut, and let my semen sprout I thought that real shit is what you been fiending ’bout What you been praying for? What you been screaming ’bout? Ironic, you been sleeping on the one that you been dreaming 'bout