Looking For Trouble - Kanye West Paroles , lyrics

Paroles de Looking For Trouble de Kanye West

Looking For Trouble est une chanson de Kanye West pour laquelle les lyrics ont été ajoutés le 09 novembre 2010.

Les paroles de Looking For Trouble ont été relues et mises en page autant que faire se peut, cependant, il est fort possible qu'elles contiennent encore des erreurs. N'hésitez pas à proposer vos corrections par mail.

Le clip de Looking For Trouble est disponible ci-dessous.

Pusha T
Re-Up Gang Pusha
(Looking for trouble, trouble, trouble)
But you found it muthaf-cker
All I see is black roses, drug dealer poses
Shoveling that devil's angel up they noses
Never let jail turn my shine into Moses
Couldn't cleanse my soul with them civil rights sposes
Panoramic roof, under glass like a coaster
Backseat driver, racial slurs at the chauffeur
Killian loafers, Mikimoto chokes her
Photo-op this 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

(You seek out problems)
(Looking for trouble, trouble, trouble)
But you found it m-therf-cker

Kanye West
I'm here, it's the misogyny
Bad bitches massaging 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 of that Givenchy and let's get raunchy
I have your face looking all Captain Cruncy
The devil stay testing
'cause when you chase the pussy it's a sin
But if it falls in your lap it's a blessing
Soon as I got salad, I spent it all on dressing
French, to be exact, that bar main was impressive
Had used the main leathers (leathers, leathers, leathers)

Cyhi The Prynce
Cyhi, Cyhi, Yeah
Boy, we looking for trouble
Maybe if we wasn't black then we wouldn't have struggled
Player, all I got is trap n-ggas and crooks in my huddle
They cook and I smuggle
Got twenty pounds of kush in the duffle
So I'm running through them circles,
Boy I'm looking like Knuckles
Look at my knuckles, got the hook in 'cause n-ggas 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 n-ggas 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
Royal Flush, so kiss my royal nuts
Ain't nothing silver spooned, I came from the soil, bruh
But now I'm eating off of rather yellow 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 a yellow road

Big Sean
GOOD, I do it
B.I.G. Sean Don n-gga
(But you found it mutherf-cker)
I'm in, that no-smoke sec' rolling motherf-cking ounces
Marijuana mountains, drinks you're not pronouncing
Three chains on, I don't need no bouncers
Nothing less than a G stack's in my trousers
New double-D's smashed in her blouses
F-ck a hotel, my n-gga we rent houses (houses)
My n-gga, 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, dish it, look like CPR
'Ye invited me a seat to sit at the throne
So now I'm snapping like yo' ass just finished a poem
Does he sound like 'Ye, Jay, or Drizzy Drake?
Meanwhile, I'm chilling with all these n-ggas, counting all this money you ain't
Consider yourself lucky to see a legend before the prime
A killer before the crime, a BIG before the Dime
Greet me wit a middle finger when you see me
It's cool, 'cause I can't see yo' ass from this side of the TV muthaf-cker

J. Cole
Hey, Cole World, make way for the chosen one
What you now hear is putting fear in all the older ones
Down played me to downgrade me like they don't notice son
Your shoes too big too fill? I can barely squeeze my toes in 'em
F-cking hoes while teaching n-ggas to hold your sons
This the rap Moses, scratch that, Mary and Joseph's son
High as f-ck with a cold flow and a loaded gun
Never say I'm better than Hov, but I'm the closest one
Heard you looking for trouble, what, I'm supposed to run?
Yo' bitch invited me inside her, ain't I supposed to cum?
Got n-ggas that'll blow your tee off, put a hole in one
Now you outside of heaven's gate, fronting 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
F-ck 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 n-ggas 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 sh-t
So check the young genius out
F-ck the World, bust a nut, and let my semen sprout
I thought that real sh-t 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

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