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