Ready (Remix)Trouble

[Verse 1: Big Bank]
Been had it, ain’t bragging
We gettin’ money like Meech now
I’m having more power than politics
Fifty killers in each town
Can’t even remember my first bitch
Got turnt out by my first lick
Man I got all my same partners
I love my niggas, I’ll never cross ‘em
Whoever shot at Bank shouldn’t have did that
I’ma send some shots where your kids at
Big Bank came out the womb with it
Sweep these pussies, got my broom ready
Just bought a 30 for my 40 hundred round
For my choppers, tell a pussy nigga go’n get ready
Strapped up right now, 40 in the booth with me
I ain’t even trusting my engineer
Might say ‘voila’, make a nigga disappear
My granny always told me can’t live by fear
If a nigga want smoke, this shit right here
You really want smoke, this shit right here
Keep throwing the rocks and hidin' your hand
Nigga gon' get your wrist chopped
Keep hiding, pussy nigga get your bitch popped
Against all odds, Big Bank like you 2Pac
Slime shit, triple cross is how the crew rock

[Verse 2: Young Thug]
I get involved so deeply
I can’t even get one of my feet out
Boy, that shit thicker than gator mud
She go to sleep and I creep out
I got them birds and them beaks out
Suck on my dog with his leash out
60k to get my teeth out
I got some kush, pull the leaf out
Couple bad bitches, we ready for ‘em
My Rolex gold, I’m a leprechaun
That shit ain’t right, that bitch stepping on
Got on ice, no pneumonia
Came up on the corner
I came up, I'm so honored
Another level
70k for the show, check the schedule
Hear ‘em fucked up lil' bitch, what it cost?
Least gotta get a hundred P’s
A hundred P’s, I got to get ‘em
I’m in the kitchen whipping up the babies
Now my niggas and my bitches ride with 'em
Nautical boat, riding with these choppers, bitch
Balenciaga’s, bitch
I’m allergic to seafood
These lil' shrimps need to stop it, bitch
Yeah, nigga, Aquafina
And my boy got lots of ninas
All my Rolex’s iced out, penguins
Make these bitches suck up all the semens
We on go, nigga, stop it
Swear I’ma hit like Stojaković
My nigga put one in your dome with me
We do it without using phones either
My bitch so wet like she came off a boat
And these niggas know I do genometry
Call my bumble, babies squeeze me like sandwiches
Put the whole dick up in her, she handle it
I’ma take this bitch as far as it go
Fuck around and you get found with the blow
Showed a bitch a million K like I know
And if she try to take it, she got to go

[Chorus: Trouble]
Can’t get involved too deeply
Can’t set myself up for letdowns
Get on them bars, get sleepy
Grab a lil bitch and go lay her down
Can’t even remember my weekend
Barely can get up the next day
All I know that I stay getting paid
Chain on the floor by my Michael J's
Couple lil bitches was ready
Chopper on side of me ready
One in the head, that bitch ready
Did you not think I was ready?
I just told Ray this shit ready
Got to go’n push it on out to the block
Got to go’n push it on out to the street
Whatever, do it heavy, young nigga be ready

[Verse 3: Trouble]
We be like bitch I gotta get 100 P’s
A hundred P’s, I got to get ‘em
Give a fuck what my niggas done did
'Cause wrong or right, a nigga riding with ‘em
24 7, riding with this chopper bitch
Riding with this chopper, yeah
We can afford some problems, yeah
I can afford some problems
Be the one, I’ll lay you down
Bad bitches, I just lay ‘em down
No emotions, I can’t play around
Pop was gone, I made my way around
Through the city, money got to get it
Francis was out shooting dice with me
My bitch she wanted me home with her
Texting her, talking on phones with her
I fuck with you but the way a nigga fuck with you
Make it seem like I don’t fuck with you
I don’t hit your phone all the time
You say it make you feel like you ain’t on my mind
How the fuck is you ain’t on my mind
When I just went and helped you go and flip a dime
Why the fuck is these bitches ungrateful
Must be doin’ somethin' under the table

[Verse 4: Young Dolph]
All of my niggas they ready
Y’all some pussies, you scary
All on the internet telling
Tryna have a real nigga jailing
The shit ‘round my neck so heavy
I’ma keep drippin’ sauce spaghetti
Oh that why they mad huh
Don’t like how I sag huh
Pockets full of cash huh
Hit your bitch from the back huh
Skeeted in her face yeah
I know that you hate that
I’m sorry, I can’t take it back
Real niggas they relate to that
Any nigga that record when it’s time for gangster shit
He the police
And I fucked your boss man’s baby mama
Same hotel for four weeks
Never sent a lil boy to take care of grown man business
If I was you I’d be mad at me too so I ain’t trippin’
Ridin’ solo in a drop top through the city
Hah, it’s Dolph