I got a problem, niggas out here tryna run with my style We moving, shaking, working now that money going pile My ex be so upset because I'm balling right now You kiss your bitch to work, I make her swallow my child You kiss your bitch 'fore work, I make

It's like the more money we come across The more problems we see I don't know what they want from me I don't know what they want from me Now, who's hot, who not? Tell me who rock, who sell out in the stores? You tell me who flopped, who copped the blue

Now I get a holiday Now I can move on to facing Big girl problems no more High school drama Graduated with honors And I’m drinking coffee while I Read the paper, I’ve been Saving money Eating only top ramen

She always held me down I've been running from my problems I've been running from you Girl, all this money, all these things, don't feel the same without you I can't trust these others girls, I got a feeling 'bout you Even though I'm doing well, I lose

I'm reminiscing, yeah I ain't fuckin' with you at all I love money, I can't go back to the bottom 'cause I Hate it at the bottom, try to stop thinking about it But, I'm reminiscing, yeah Fuck your problem, it's too late to tell me sorry Off the head,

I'm coming out She's coming out You, you, you, you, you You gotta let it show Yo! I'm coming out Like the sun after rain Ready to shine no time to be plain

Now I must die by my own hand 'cause I'm not man enough to live alone. and I'm better off dead now that she's gone. She couldn't stand me anymore so she just took the kids and went. You see, I've got a drinkin' problem, all the money that we had I spent.

(Okay, okay, okay) I wish my problems would go away (Okay, okay, okay) I wish my problems would go away, away, away I wish my problems would go away, away, away They say Luda would you rather have the money or the fame And I steady try to tell em that it

I'm so tired Of all the problems you've been causin' me (ha—ha—ha) We are not cool no mo' as far as I can see You kicked me down I've fallen, I'm crawlin' It's all your fault Mo' money, mo' problems it is Now I'm back to writin' my lyrical novel again

And if I was a bettin' woman I'd lay my money down I'd bet he spends more time in them woods Than he spends in this house I got myself a problem I can't figure no way out It's like I'm married to a shotgun carryin', tobacco chewin', No good blue tick