Think We Got A Problem Lyrics - Silverback Gorilla - Sheek Louch

[Chorus: x2] 

I think we got a problem, got a got a problem 

I think we got a problem, got a got a problem 

I think we got a problem, got a got a problem 

Think we got a problem, think we got a problem 

[Sheek Louch:] 

Think we got a problem, mask on, show you how to rob em 

Revolver, show you how to solve'm 

Drivin down Harlem, the Aston a problem 

No tint fishball it ain't hard to spot him 

Think we got a problem, weed got too much 

Only thing damn I'm down to my last dutch 

Think we got a problem, but really it ain't dough 

There's one of me, and these bitches I count about three four 

Think we got a problem, the homey just all talk 

He ain't gon pop a balloon with a pitch fork 

Think we got a problem in the club with this dogg 

Rude boy, starks, ladies, everybody 

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[Chorus] 

[The Game:] 

Think we got a problem, Game in Manhattan 

Black on black Aston the 21 strapped in 

Dominican chick ridin shotty all strapped in 

Customize the dash on my shotgun strapped in 

Cops on the shoulder gotta pull a Hova 

Time to fade to black cause I ain't pullin ova 

The engine is a problem, that ain't no question 

Pop the trunk see the speakers kickin' like Beckham 

Think we got a problem, Sheek know I'm hot 

Kiss and Styles should make me a member of the Lox 

I take all the beats I remember how to box 

If I ever get knocked out, I remember how to pop 

Remember how to load everything inside my glock 

Ask the niggas in the hood cause they remember who I shot 

Think we got a problem, I snitched on myself 

And I hate rats so I dugg a ditch for myself what 

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[Chorus] 

[Bun B:] 

Well it's the king of the trill Bun B'der you know the name 

And the streets is like the NBA, I love this game 

Keep a bottle of Henessey, a blunt and that purp 

With my hand up on my heater, and my killaz on churp 

You see me one deep in the spot, think I'm slippin', try ya luck 

Cause I got sixteen homeys with me, that stay ready to buck 

You can duck dodge or dive, but it won't do diddly skwat 

But leave ya with a leaky liver and both ya kidneys shot 

But you may not pimpin' I ain't fin to ask for it 

My money, my hood or my respect, I'm a blast for it 

You can't push fast forward, rewind or pause 

I'm a beat you till you shittin ya draws, so call the laws cause 

[Chorus]