Ima Problem Lyrics – Morbid Clique
Singer: Morbid Clique
Title: Ima Problem
I shot you down, bang bang
You hit the ground, bang bang
That awful sound, bang bang
I shot you down, bang bang
You hit the ground, bang bang
That awful sound, bang bang
I’m problematic, all out savage with no chill
Don’t even try this Coronavirus, I’m so ill
Don’t need to like it, but best respect it, it’s so real
You fell behind, it’s like motorbiking with no wheels
I stole your b#tch cuz she’s an ass-shaker
Can you deal with that hater?
I still got more problems than a math paper
Keep talking sh#t, I’ll handle that later
I don’t understand that sh#t you’re talking, get a translator
If you want a problem, then you have one
We can be suppliers, you we’re on the net claiming that you’re hard and we were liars
Show up at your crib, tеaring up the yard, squealing tires
Now you’rе crying b#tch, praying to your god that you survive us
You know better than to go against the heaviest hitters
You ain’t acting like yourself man, get him a Snickers
A rap god, I ain’t talking about a heavenly figure
I stay winning, somebody queue the confetti and strippers
And tell ’em
I shot you down, bang bang
You hit the ground, bang bang
That awful sound, bang bang
I shot you down, bang bang
You hit the ground, bang bang
That awful sound, bang bang
Yuh, bang bang with the clickity clack
I stay strapped, we’re not kicking it, we’re creaming our cats
It’s a fictional fact, committing unthinkable acts
Drop a load on the throne where Queen Elizabeth sat, yuck
Early on people noticed alarming signs
Jim Jonez, I’m a motherf#cking problem child
Equipped with a carving knife and a charming smile
The reincarnation of Ted Bundy when his Bonnie fried
Oh my God, I must be psychotic
Feeling diabolic, even when I’m smoking chronic
b#tch, I wanna shop sh#t
Pills? You know I popped it
Cut my dick off and then vomit, then stick it in my pocket
Y’all are too soft, crying to mommy about flu shots
Click, your sleeve and your nose is more red than Rudolph’s
Y’all are all haters, father of the game like I’m Darth Vader
Pulling more strings than guitar players
Ha
I shot you down, bang bang
You hit the ground, bang bang
That awful sound, bang bang
I shot you down, bang bang
You hit the ground, bang bang
That awful sound, bang bang
Yeah, haha, ha
Like a read-headed step-child named Junior
Who brought a whole lot of problems like a tumor
On your helmet, never benign, we malignant
Significant rolling through your town, magnificent (Magnificent)
Candy red like the blood spillers merk
Then drift, machete in the door panel, trunk bumping
Grew and Novelty snatch your lady friend
Put her in the trunk to feel the vibrations
Sickf#x my dude, miles long, midwest
Chopping, crop the ears like the Dynamite kid
Did in the ring, what you saying?
I ain’t hearing, sure you grew but you’re still on the short list (Yeah)
Minion eyes while the devil stains on her lips
Pocket full of lint, check the resume, check these hits
Streaming services wanted poster that read
“Alive or dead, armed and dangerous”
I don’t blame ’em, I’m a problem (I get it)
Took the chronic cut, it’s skunking up the f#cking vent
I don’t blame ’em, I’m a problem (I get it)
Man, I thought they told you not to let me in this b#tch?
I don’t blame ’em, I’m a problem (I get it)
I don’t blame ’em, I’m a problem (I get it)
Wow wow
I shot you down, bang bang
You hit the ground, bang bang
That awful sound, bang bang
How come Patsy Cline don’t put out no more new records?
Cuz she’s dead
Don’t that make you sad?
I’ve had time to get over it
Find more lyrics at lyrics.jspinyin.net
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Lyrics Morbid Clique – Ima Problem
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