[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      [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      [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]