We Got A Problem Houston

[Intro: Boldy James & Bun B]

(Statik Selektah)

Where we at with it?

It's the jack god

Concreatures, gladiators

Let's get it

[Verse 1: Boldy James]

It's the big creature, I beat the, I beat the beat up

Track was on fire way before I lit the weed up

Bossed up on these niggas, now I can kick my feet up

At the roundtable, come grab a chair and pull a seat up

Let's parlor about them tractor trailers and trolleys

Pullin' off the loading dock with them crates on the dolley

The trenches is where I'm safest, in the Wraith with Murray

Buckled up in safety, they say you better safe than sorry

Back to back on the west end highway with an Asian Barbie

Baby playin' crazy in the binky, tryna race the 'Rari

I say can never be too safe, you better late than tardy

Bust diddy Presi' Day and Date, nah, this ain't Bulgari

Know how I get when shit go left, but why start it up?

Can't touch what you can't feel, what make me hard to touch

Shots to them niggas that can never be a part of us

I'm sorry for not feelin' sorry for you sorry fucks

[Chorus: Boldy James & Paul Wall]

Due to all the high for lootin', it's been a lot of boostin'

Know it's a gun involved when it come to my conclusion

They say life is a messy bitch, death is not assuming

Gotta play to win in this game or you gon' die from losing

Few million dollars in one sitting, shit damn near got me drooling

All of these boppers on the strip, my niggas got 'em choosing

So when they start to shoot, that's when we'll stop the music (What it do?)

Me, Uncle Bun, and Paul Wall, we got a problem, Houston (Paul Wall, baby)

[Verse 2: Paul Wall]

Grind so hard, you'd swear I had a body double

Never buckle, when the pressure come, turn up the hustle

Pockets bubble, so I'm pieced up like a puzzle

Bun and Boldy brought the muscle, watch the tone on your rebuttal

Break the huddle, then break you off like a crab leg

You bet on me losin' at any point, then that's a bad spread

Bags of bread and packs to the head

In a 'Lac that's red, leanin' like I got a bad leg

Never mad, instead, I'm motivated

On a potent soda, sedated, that's why I'm so elated

Medicated off concentrate, help the concentration

So devoted to the game, focused on locatin' paper

All major, nothin' petty

When it come to hustles, I got plenty

Thick skin, it's tough to offend me, you comprehend me?

I'm tryna get them Benjis, that grind, it's just in me

Now let's go and get it

[Chorus: Boldy James & Bun B]

Due to all the high for lootin', it's been a lot of boostin'

Know it's a gun involved when it come to my conclusion

They say life is a messy bitch, death is not assuming

Gotta play to win in this game or you gon' die from losing

Few million dollars in one sitting, shit damn near got me drooling

All of these boppers on the strip, my niggas got 'em choosing

So when they start to shoot, that's when we'll stop the music (Gladiators)

Me, Uncle Bun, and Paul Wall, we got a problem, Houston (It's up)

[Verse 3: Bun B]

What's up? I'm the boogieman under the bed

That'll wake you up mid-dream and put that forty-five to your head

The only way you gon' survive is if you show us the bread

And pass the butter

Or else, lights out, close the shutters

I ain't come to cause a ruckus, we can do this shit quietly

The wife and kids can sleep through it all if you ain't denyin' me

I ain't gotta put a hot one in you, but I will though

That shit'll fuck you over like a double-sided dildo

Pause, trust me, nigga, these ain't shooters, I brought killers

Real steppers, real life gorillas, they straight dealers

Catch us on Nightline, America's Most Wanted

You don't get taunted, I make you famous in my sightline

Niggas couldn't hold me in the cuts when I hold my nuts

And you see me and Boldy moving boldly in some buffs

And it's pitch-black out

'Cause when you boxed in, you can't back out

'Specially when we 'proach you with the MAC out

Bitch, it's soul food

[Chorus: Boldy James]

Due to all the high for lootin', it's been a lot of boostin'

Know it's a gun involved when it come to my conclusion

They say life is a messy bitch, death is not assuming

Gotta play to win in this game or you gon' die from losing

Few million dollars in one sitting, shit damn near got me drooling

All of these boppers on the strip, my niggas got 'em choosing

So when they start to shoot, that's when we'll stop the music

Me, Uncle Bun, and Paul Wall, we got a problem, Houston