Kanye West

Kanye West - Looking For Trouble songtekst

Je score:

(feat. Pusha T, Big Sean, Cyhi Da Prynce, J. Cole)





[Pusha T:]

Re-Up Gang Pusha

(Looking for trouble, trouble, trouble)

But you found it muthafucker

Yes

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

Gone!!!



(You seek out problems)

(Looking for trouble, trouble, trouble)

But you found it motherfucker



[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 Balmain 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 niggas 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 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

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 nigga

(But you found it mutherfucker)

bitch

I’m in, 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 stack’s in my trousers

(Boy)

new double-D’s 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, 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 niggas, 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 muthafucker



[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

fucking hoes while teaching 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 looking for trouble, what, I’m supposed to run?

yo’ bitch invited me inside her, ain’t I supposed to cum?

got niggas 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

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
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Taal: Engels

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