Tekster:
The Damned Don T Trouble Trouble

Don't trouble trouble 'till trouble troubles you Don't trouble trouble 'till trouble troubles you Keep yourself to yourself be carefull what you do Don

underneath the palm trees (Undone) The boys break their necks Tryin' to creep a little sneak peek Let's runaway And don't ever look back Don't ever

ass wit dem choppers The .45 make my pants sag Catch me bouncing through the club wit my crip flag You don't like it do something nigga Where I'm from if we don't

to speak So we beat the bitch down in the god damn street But just livin' in the city a serious task Bitch didn't know what hit her didn't have time

multiple indictments for hundreds of years What Daff is dead? Carter got 25 years? Nah Spike 35 to life? Nah, don't tell me B.O.'s dead, man I don't

hate? Have a nice time While I get stupid paper, hey, my dough ain't in this right mind Now I don't really care what you call me Just as long as you don't

'em hate from every angle, they intimidated, ain't I I'ma beast, they don't like to see me walking outta prison I ain't trippin', I don't owe 'em nothing

my table (Whoa) And she started dancing all on me I should've said, "Hold up," (Hold up) "Don't you know my girl?" But the alcohol in me, make me wanna cut up Damn

this is Shaolin Shaolin, Shaolin Now stay there like it ain't nothing to face fear Flowers by the grave of the niggas who say where Straight chair, 'cause I don't