No Problems
No Problems

Gucci Mane ft. Rich Homie Quan, Peewee Longway - No Problems Lyrics

Sep 9, 2015
1
No Problems Music Video

No Problems Lyrics

Shooter holding my pistol as I
Switch lanes in that Audi
Tennis shoes my choices ain't shit
Changed but my bottom
Ain't shit lame 'bout my partners
Your bitch came to my house to
Get fucked by my roster
My team homie, Peewee put me on it, yeah
These niggas 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 shit just got real like this

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
Bitch 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

I say my shooter holding my pistol as
I switch lanes in that Audi
Tennis shoes my choices ain't shit
Changed but my bottom
Ain't shit lame bout my partners
Your bitch came to my house to
Get fucked by my roster
My team homie, Peewee put me on it, yeah
These niggas 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 shit just got real like this

Yeah I don't put sixes on her
She should put fours on
I told her wear it just so I
Could fuck her with her clothes on
50 bitches hit my line in
Jail on my cellphone

Niggas say he got the sticky icky purp velcro
Say he got a truck load
Tell me what I don't know
Niggas 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, nigga 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

I say my shooter holding my pistol as
I switch lanes in that Audi
Tennis shoes my choices ain't shit
Changed but my bottom
Ain't shit lame bout my partners
Your bitch came to my house to
Get fucked by my roster
My team homie, Peewee put me on it, yeah
These niggas 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 shit just got real like this

Writer(s): JOSEPH CARTAGENA, RICHARD BUTLER, WILLIAM DRAYTON, JONATHAN RIDENHOUR, CARL DOUGLAS, NORMAN ROGERS, ELIJAH MOLINA
Copyright(s): Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, REACH MUSIC PUBLISHING, Songtrust Ave, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind

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