Kanye West feat. Pusha T, Cyhi The Prynce, Big Sean and J. Cole, “Looking For Trouble” (Lyrics + MP3)

6 Nov

Happy G.O.O.D. Saturday. And if this isn’t a G.O.O.D. Friday track because Ye was waiting on the J. Cole verse, then that’s okay with me, because Jermaine’s basically the reaper of G.O.O.D. Music on this one.

MP3 here via Team Supreme. Lyrics after the jump.

Lyrics

(Pusha T)

Re-Up Gang, Pusha
(Lookin’ for trouble)
But you found it motherfucker

All I see is black roses, drug dealer poses
Shovelin’ that devil’s angel up they noses
Never let jail turn my shine into Moses
Couldn’t cleanse my soul with them Civil Rights sposes
Panoramic roof, under glass like a coaster
Backseat driver, racial slurs at the chauffeur
Killian loafers, Miki Moto chokes her
Photo op this priceless frame, our wanted posters
The audacity, war brings casualty
Bitch have my son before I face that tragedy
I order hits, she orders mahi
R.I.P. Vivian Blake, shout out the shower posse
Gone

(You seek out problems)
(Lookin’ for trouble)
But you found it motherfucker

(Kanye West)

I’m here, it’s the misogyny, bad bitches massagin’ me
Sometimes we lowered our standards at the colleges
So please don’t judge me, uh, for the followin’
Fat bitches swallowin’, skinny bitches modelin’
Take of that Givenchy and let’s get raunchy
I have your face lookin’ all Captain Cruncy
The devil stay testin’, ’cause when you chase the pussy it’s a sin
But if it falls in your lap, it’s a blessin’
Soon as I got salad, I spent it all on dressing
French, to be exact, that bar main was impressive
Had used the main leathers

(Cyhi The Prynce)

Cyhi, Cyhi

Boy, we lookin’ for trouble
Maybe if we wasn’t black, then we wouldn’t have struggled
Player, all I got is track niggas and crooks in my huddle
They cook and I smuggle, got twenty pounds of kush in the duffle
So I’m runnin’ through them suckers, boy, I’m lookin’ like Knuckles
Look at my knuckles, got the hook in ’cause niggas was lookin’
I’ve tooken some whoopings, so trust me, dog, I’m good for a scuffle
Don’t be mad I whooped your ass, ’cause I’ve tooken a couple
Feds askin’ niggas questions, but I wouldn’t rebuttal
‘Cause I’m Jake Gyllenhaal, I’m in the hood with the bubble
With a tall model broad like I took her from Russell
Didn’t play the cards I was dealt, I made the dealer reshuffle
Royal Flush, so kiss my royal nuts
Ain’t nothin’ silver spooned, I came from the soil, bruh
But now I’m eatin’ off of rather yellow gold
Exquisite ravioli with some happy yellow hoes
But don’t get it confused when I rap these mellow flows
‘Cause all my Titos got bricks like the yellow road

(Big Sean)

Good
I do it
B.I.G. Sean Don, nigga
(But you found it motherfucker)
Bitch

I’m, in, that no-smoke sec rollin’ motherfuckin’ ounces
Marijuana mountains, drinks you’re not pronouncin’
Three chains on, I don’t need no bouncers
Nothin’ less than a G stack’s in my trousers
(Boi) New double-Ds smashed in her blouses
Fuck a hotel, my nigga, we rent houses (Houses)
My nigga, we rent houses
So many wedding rings lost in them couches
I’m just a Westside lover
I leave females in my sheets and all my feelings in a rubber
This is showtime, showtime, boy, I hope you set the DVR
Stackin’ money face to face, this shit look like CPR
Ye invited me a seat to sit at the throne
So now I’m snappin’ like yo’ ass just finished a poem
Does he sound like Ye, Jay, or Drizzy Drake?
Meanwhile, I’m chillin’ with all these niggas, countin’ all this money you ain’t
Consider yourself to see a legend before the prime
A killer before the crime, a Big before the dyin’
Greet me wit’ a middle finger when you see me
It’s cool, ’cause I can’t see yo’ ass from this side of the TV, motherfucker

(J. Cole)

Hey, Cole World, make way for the chosen one
What you now hear is puttin’ fear in all the older ones
Downplayed me to downgrade me like they don’t notice son
Your shoes too big too fill? I can barely squeeze my toes in ’em
Fuckin’ hoes while teachin’ niggas to hold your sons
This the rap Moses, scratch that, Mary and Joseph’s son
High as fuck with a cold flow and a loaded gun
Never say I’m better than Hov, but I’m the closest one
Heard you lookin’ for trouble, what, I’m ‘sposed to run?
Yo’ bitch invited me inside her, ain’t I ‘sposed to come?
Got niggas that’ll blow your tee off, put a hole in one
Now you outside of heaven’s gate, frontin’ like you know someone
Talkin’ hard, but y’all still ain’t push me
They say you are what you eat, and I still ain’t pussy
Fuck it, er’rybody can get it
When you’re this hot, er’rybody’s a critic
But when you’re this high er’rybody’s a midget
All this mean-muggin’ from niggas that mean nothin’
Could it be my position is one that you dreamed of?
Went from quarter to broke to half past rich
With my badass bitch
And you don’t want no problems on some math class shit
So check the young genius out
Fuck the world, bust a nut, and let my semen sprout
I though that real shit is what you been fiendin’ ’bout
What you been prayin’ fo’? What you been screamin’ ’bout?
Ironic you been sleepin’ on the one that you been dreamin’ ’bout

2 Responses to “Kanye West feat. Pusha T, Cyhi The Prynce, Big Sean and J. Cole, “Looking For Trouble” (Lyrics + MP3)”

  1. Ben November 13, 2010 at 5:01 PM #

    Super minor correction to offer here: I believe the line from Big Sean’s verse is “the Big before the dying,” considering in a previous song he lamented about the woes of being a rapper with the name Big in it, because most of the great Big-named rappers have died (The Notorious B.I.G., Big Pun, Big L, etc.)

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