No Problems (Plugged In) Songtext
von JamWayne

Okay, I ain′t even gon' flex
It′s Sunday I ain't even up next
But one day You gon' put this tape in
Hit the replay Gon′ vibe when you ride Chill to the music
Feelin′ what I'm puttin′ inside Dealin' with your vulnerable side
This go hard and I ain′t even try Close your eyes
Just vibe with me Do or die for life,really
When I ridin', he drivin′ me Great spirit, it's my Siri
Navigate through the ways of the land Demonstrate when to kneel
Understand Give me grace when I don't understand Which way is the best?
No, God′s got a plan Throughout my life
My hands stayed dirty Down to ride when it′s necessary
Walk a line, I got no worries Take my time, I'm in no hurry
Brothers die, so my eyes blurry Another ride to the cemetery
Live your life, you know death comin′ But of faith, and we gone, homie
You don't really want no problem You don′t really want no problem
You don't really want no problem (won′t no problem)
You don't really want, yo, you don't really want no problem (won′t no problem)
All until I see that ′Til I drop down six feet deep in the casket
Take my last breath and I breathe that


Stand on the front line, called in to ask
She keep mine free, no relapse
Try and stay clean, but the mud gon' stick
Suds in the fifth, duds on the whip
One, two, five, six, so I curl in the silk
With a pearl on the hip, hair trigger flicker on big
Peace with the wood on the grip Black in a bed, ′bout to be incurred when
I slip out, put the Hellcat on drill, smokin' a spliff
Get thrown rap on the seat, you gon′ see it with a pack on your step
Been through hell, and I'll be damned if I climb down just so
I can jump back in Back tires spin when I mash out, lookin′ for the cash out, red zone, go for the win
Ride for my friends, most of them gone so long in the grave, but they locked in a pen
Smoke in the wind, raise up a toast to the ones that be locked down due in a bed, know the world ain't shit
Lord heard every pray you left up down there in cell block six As the world on tilt, everybody
Leroy left Had to put the south on drip, 'bout this here, yeah
Bobbin′ with the head nod, mobbin′ in the streets out there Let me make this clear
We some third-breds in the country Blue contract and true, and if it comes down to it
Then you cross that line in a red, white, and blue Boy, you better salute
You don't really want no problem (want no problem)
You don′t really want no problem (want no problem)
You don't really want no problem You don′t really want, you don't really want no problem