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â¦Service, work it
The vagrant came upon a plot, shop â set it down
Found vacant, he gonâ make it into something better now
Barn hand, conversant in farm land, planted seven rows
Will it ever grow? Heaven only knows, though heâs
Hopeful, never boastful about the ethic
Set it deep into the earth, work and serve, all the rest let it
Come or not, hot summer sun, son â bumper crop
Over night, or so some thought (now theyâre talkinâ that)
What you really did to get this windfall, spendinâ all year estranged?
Better not be mystical, typically the criminals here they hang
Aint nobody ever seen you cultivate, rake or till, ya dig?
Take a lot to win a pot, wanna pay the rate? The stakes raised, you bid?
In or out, what the men around here âbout, finna count a pound of cheese
Double down, you intend to win the prize, otherwise bounce and leave
We donât care where you came from, since day one seen the game constructed
We gonâ watch it all fall, frauds claim to save it in the name of love? Nuh uh.
Bubble, fizz â what the trouble is?
This is hustle biz â what the trouble is?
A couple kids â what the trouble is?
Muzzle ripped, tell âem what the trouble is, come on now
Trouble is love donât want you, boy, see the
Trouble is love donât want you, baby, see the
Trouble is love donât want you, no, see the
Trouble is love donât want you here
Not one to gamble, lit the Camel, took a long drag
Sat back and blew, inside he knew these folks had gone mad
Through the smoke proposed a wager: tails, you can take my fields
Heads, you accept my station; they deliberated, deal!
Coin turned for what seemed like eternity, slow breath
Some folks wept and fretted while the peasant never broke a sweat
Confident he had âem in the talismanâs descent
By the time they shouted âTAILS,â he done packed his bags and went
Best never try to test the vets, you wanna settle? Better pay your dues
To the boss you done lost your crops, in one toss Iâll take your food
Better be gone, set about and keep on a boulevard towards the boat
Ever come back get about a ton of that d-CON down your throat
In the meantime we find these fine fruits do quench a thirst
And for pay we may persuade and convince some of these men to work
In the end we sup and supplement the income caught in the trap
We must be blessed, best of all â that farmerâs gone, thank God for that
Double-dipped â what the trouble is?
Thatâs hustle biz â what the trouble is?
A couple kids â what the trouble is?
Knuckle, fist, tell âem what the trouble is, come on now
Trouble is love donât want you, boy, see the
Trouble is love donât want you, baby, see the
Trouble is love donât want you, no, see the
Trouble is love donât want you here