ONLY PROBLEM LYRICS BY R3 DA CHILLIMAN

Only Problem Lyrics by R3 Da Chilliman, 03 Greedo is latest English song voiced by them, its music is given by MIA JAY C. Brand new lyrics of Only Problem song is written by 03 Greedo, R3 Da Chilliman.

Only Problem Song Detail
Song – Only Problem
Singer(s) – R3 Da Chilliman, 03 Greedo
Musician(s) – MIA JAY C
Lyricist(s)- 03 Greedo, R3 Da Chilliman

Only Problem Lyrics

(Mia jay c)
Only problem is I keep popping these percocets
(I hear you jay c)
Oh-oh

My only problem is I keep popping these percocets
Took his chains ’cause he play tough now come purchase it back
Jeans only cost me a band but I got fifty in ’em
Hit they hood and spinned all night I got dizzy with ’em
Ni**a the gat ain’t in the car I’m in the club with it
Lil’ yak can beat yo’ block I love that dumb ni**a
Pink tens rps where my meds at?
Walk in swinging big cubans the head taps
She suck it good she got me leaning like my cream soda
I see her friends been eyeing me I told her bring ’em over
You know I sprayed the ysl so smell the cookie on me
Bad b!tch with a fat ass put that pu*sy on me
F*cking yerkies got my motherf*cking palms itching

I need all my kicks designer I cannot fit them
In the booth beating the mic like I’m sonny liston
In the house searching for money now they safe missing
In the club swinging my chain like a hula hoop
Everybody turn knobs I don’t know who to shoot
Told the b!tch to slow down I almost spilled my juice
If the ball was in your hand what would you do?

I’m finna do a song with somebody that I don’t like
This ni**a think we cool but he won’t make it home tonight
They call me “greedy” when I eat shit got an overbite
Red bottom stepping on the lean can’t roll your soda spike
Need purple guts inside my ghost call it the poltergeist
I been possessed by lil money finna pole tonight
Just f*cked the partner of my wife like she don’t know my wife
I’m banging grape street crip b!tch you know I’m trife
B!tch I’m still high off shit I popped back in 2009
I’m still alive and all my opps? shit all them ni**as dying

Don’t ask me ’bout no cali rappers all them ni**as lying
They ain’t no flockers ain’t no trappers ain’t comitting crimes
Each time 03 link with r3 these ni**as throwing signs
They finna free motherf*cker flee and b!tch it’s going down
2013 to ’23 and we ain’t been around
But I’ma give it to you straight you play we give you rounds
ain’t talking boxing turn to hashtags off of [?] pound
Hottest new artist but for fifteen years been underground
They speed my songs up and do dances with them kiddy clowns
Might paint my face hop out with steppers in the biggest crowd
We ride with spinners we ride with spinners it don’t stop
Stepping like crunchy black the mafia back on the block
I got some memphis grapes that pop a younger ni**a’ top
You play with greedy name and we ain’t never met I’m just at odds
I gained some weight in prison this ain’t fat I’ll knock you out
Enemies respect me ’cause I never flinched they packed me out
B!tch I’m banging peter roll on grape I never rolled it up
Some of y’all done turned ya down and y’all ain’t standing close to us
Murder r3′ songs ’cause he remind me of my evil twin
Know they call me “greedy” after this gon’ have to eat again
I’ll hustle off my tax id and I might use a cpn
I know this verse a lil’ long so what? just loop the beat again
Still standing on business I stand up like a comedian
I’m back to get my motherf*cking state up out they seat again
Been down for seven burners I ain’t scared to up the heat again
Push my parole to cali just so I can smoke some weed again
I must have a weak bladder ’cause a ni**a finna pee again
Don’t never say these rappers sounding something like 03 again
She don’t wanna give me shit I’m sorry I don’t need her then
If you ain’t down to kill a ni**a for me I can’t be your friend
Big cheedo ha

ain’t no fooling me he jewelry cheap that tip a hollow
Thought he was a killer real driller he got robbed though
Ni**as in they videos with arps and they ain’t drop shit
I go grab my chop’ drop a body I don’t drop diss
I’m in neiman marcus pockets bulging we want big racks
Aim the 7.62s at his face and push his shit back
My homies outside toting sticks like they can’t see nothing
B!tch time to slide if you in this ride you know how we coming
You ain’t never stripped a ni**a for a box of ps
Don’t crack stoves and flock houses ni**a that’s my thing
My watch cost a lil’ more I bust a face too
You ni**as bouncing out letting dracs loose
The blower in my amiri jeans and I’m clutching it
She got a design on her toes and I’m loving it
I’m in here leaning to the left I’m off a pink ten
Hundreds piled up on the floor I’m counting big beg